Enduring Echoes
by gaki 0
Summary: A/U: After the destruction of earth, the memory of Vegeta and the betrayal that ensued haunt Bulma while she faces the daunting task of survival.
1. Irregularities

A/N: There will be shifts in time throughout this story. I look forward to hearing from you!

Disclaimer: I do not own most of these characters.

Irregularities

The stars blurred outward in an intense spectacle that the woman never got tired of watching. In a daze she imagined how they would look back home: still and untouchable. An adventure to come, if she so chose to take the journey. But that choice was stolen from her.

"Course set." She snapped to attention and gave a sharp look towards the voice that had ended her musing. The offender was barely a man. The light stubble on his chin caught the cold light emanating from the screen below him.

"Good Job, Vladimir." Bulma attempted to soften her harsh gaze and deliver confidence to the flight engineer. He had done the complicated job with relative ease, even though the boy had received no real training. His young blue eyes were weary and apprehension escaped from his fidgeting hands and tight lips. She knew the answer to her question, but trying to transfer some control to the capable boy she asked, "How long until we reach Verda?"

Vladimir replied by straightening his back and knowingly answering, "Five days, Captain."

"Keep me posted on _any_ irregularities;" Bulma delivered her command by cutting the air with her hand in a way that she hoped passed along the importance of her order. Bulma turned from the viewing deck and walked towards the cold metal door which swooshed open in quick and efficient timing. She strode through the open doorway to be hidden by the white door snapping back into place.

Keisha swiveled her chair to face Vladimir's back. She tossed her hair in a teasing flip and innocently asked, "What's an irregularity at warp speed in empty space?"

The young man looked at her suspiciously and returned, "I guess we will know if we see it." He looked down at Keisha's legs as they crossed over one another and her skirt slipped up her thigh. She let a little giggle escape and smiled at him. He imagined the captain did not think the communication officer flirting with him would be entirely irregular, but he sure as hell did.

Bulma raised a couple of fingers to the bridge of her nose as she heard the girl tease the flight officer. _They will know what an irregularity is … if they see it_, she tried to instill confidence in her decision to hand over the bridge. She continued on her path to the elevator. Her boots methodically slapping the ground in a military style as her thoughts once again returned to their previous occupation.

She never imagined her life could have changed in this way. Here she was debasing flirting when at one time she could have worn the crown as the biggest flirt of all time. She punched the button hard in anger, but the elevator doors still slid open in compliance allowing her passage to the top floor. Once ascending the ship, Bulma prepared herself for returning home. _It will never get easier_. She thought to herself in trepidation.

The doors parted revealing a tiled hallway which opened on the right to a large kitchen and dining area. A yellow haired woman turned around and smiled brightly at her new guest. "Oh, Bulma! I see your back from the office. Would you like something to eat, sweetie?"

"No Mom, not right now." Bulma's voice was sullen and she suddenly realized how tired she had become.

The older woman cocked her head to the side and looked alarmingly at her daughter. "Don't be silly. Come sit down." Bulma obliged as her mother fished a glass from the cabinet and poured lemonade into it. "What we need is a nice trip to Opal Spa, it is such a shame they are always booked now." She set the glass in front of the tired woman and ran her fingers through her daughter's blue stringy hair continuing, "Your hair is so flat, a perm would look so nice!"

Bulma looked down at the floor and pushed down the urge to reveal to startling truth to her mother: _the Opal Spa is gone, it's all gone_. She switched her gaze to the kitchen windows where she saw her mother's garden blooming with the intensity that could only be produced from an optical illusion. She gazed back at her mother, grabbed the glass and took a gulp of the inviting liquid. Calmly and sweetly she replied, "Maybe a spot will open for us, I'll call tomorrow."

"Yes, Yes." The delusional woman walked back to the kitchen counter, grabbed a spoon and began mixing the cookie batter vigorously. "Why it's no wonder those handsome boys don't come around anymore. You are always so busy. I will never get grandchildren this way! You're still young though honey, one will come back for you." Bulma prepared herself for the inevitable; Her mother never shied away from mentioning her favorite candidate. "That Vegeta is such a hottie, if only you could tame him," the older woman turned back towards her daughter releasing a suggestive wink and giggle.

Bulma stood up abruptly and slammed her fist on the table. "I told you. He is gone!" She enunciated each of the words in a hope that it would sink in. The young woman's anger boiled inside of her, and she closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself.

The older woman wasn't fazed, she continued rambling, "Oh please, he'll come back. I see the way he looks at you. He's hooked; you just have to real him in." She continued to mix the batter in large swooping circles. "Remember how much that prince loved cookies? Imagine! A rugged man like him having such a sweet tooth." Bulma focused on the cookie batter in her mother's arms. Once, her mother had begun her ranting about Bulma's oppurtunities, there was no coming back.

Bulma took a deep breath, pushing down the anger and sadness trying to erupt from within her. "I'm going to take a shower." She exited the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the second floor. In the dark hallway, she stopped beside her bedroom door and looked at the door across from hers. It was closed and uninviting. She knew the cold feeling she would receive if she opened the door. Shaking her head, she walked into her room and continued to the bathroom.

She undressed and stared at herself in the mirror. Her soft curves had melted away to be replaced by hard skin slapped over bones and muscle. She looked worn. Leaning over, she turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. The water pelted her back and steam engulfed her body. She leaned her head backwards and allowed her head to enter the spray. The water travelled through her hair and slithered down her face as she felt herself to begrudgingly relax. _Cookies_, she thought to herself as the incident of Vegeta's first exposure to the food raced through her mind, _the man did love cookies_.

~~~ _two years prior_ ~~~

She sat at her table hunched over blue prints. _Come on problem, talk to me. _She attempted to coax the issue from the pages into her mind. The smell of warm, freshly made chocolate chip cookies danced in front of her, but she ignored them. She would allow herself a cookie after she made a little headway. _There has to be a way to increase its resistance_. The hum of her labs machinery droned on in a soothing way; she likened the noise to the sound of the ocean. The faint ticks of the parts colliding and the pumps efforts to keep enclosed spaces at vacuum hid the slight swoosh emanating from across the room.

Bulma had never been a patient woman. Her eyes wondered to the source of the aroma. _No_, she told herself, but she knew she had already lost the battle. "Alright, just one to stimulate the mind," she convinced herself out loud.

Her teeth sank into the cookie and the piece immediately began to melt in her mouth. She let out a low, satisfied moan. Pulling the remaining cookie from her mouth, the chocolate stretched like hot cheese between her mouth and the half eaten cookie. The oozing chocolate broke free and slapped her chin in a surprising, burning sensation causing her to release a giggle. Replacing the cookie on the plate, she wiped the drying chocolate from under her mouth with her index finger and put the finger between her lips. Sucking the delicious treat from her finger, she closed her eyes and leaned back into her chair. Letting out an audible sigh, she opened her eyes again and nearly jumped a foot in the air.

Vegeta stood on the opposite side of the table, his imposing figure radiating annoyance. "Done yet, woman?" He questioned, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. A smirk grew on his face as one corner of his lips slightly raised and his eyes narrowed.

A slight blush flourished on her cheeks as she realized she was amusing him with her cookie eating display. In the small amount of time Bulma had shared her home with the Saiyan she had already become familiar with this look. In an effort to assert herself, she pulled her eyebrows together and demanded, "How long have you been there!"

His gruff voice calmly responded to her accusatory tone, "Long enough to see you make a fool of yourself," with a small pause he raised one eyebrow, adding "once again." His smirk increased as he parted his lips to reveal his teeth.

She released a small, _umph_, and stared defiantly into his cold, shark-like eyes. "You're just jealous because I have these wonderful cookies, and you have none." She tossed her head to the side causing her hair to flip away of her face and raised her chin in superiority.

"Barely," he said under his breath in a guttural response several octaves below his normal tone. He looked at the small woman behind the expansive desk with a look that predators reserve for their prey. His focus flicked to her parted lips, then traced down to her exposed delicate neck. He could see her pulse beating and almost heard the light thudding within her. He inhaled a large, painstaking breath but merely caught the scent of her chocolate offerings.

Bulma felt he was trying to analyze her as an animal would examine an unfamiliar object. She was trapped by his intense stare and started to feel uncomfortably exposed. In an attempt to adjust his gaze, she held her palm out next to the plate of cookies. "Want one?" She nervously bit her lip lightly and released a hopeful smile.

He removed his eyes from her to look at the plate of cookies, and then he slowly dragged his gaze to the blue prints in front of her. "How long before you pathetic humans finish my gravity room?" His eyes snapped to Bulma's at his description of her race. He knew her response would be noteworthy.

"Pathetic!" Bulma shot up from her chair and shrieked, "At least my race has managed to survive!" A low growl emanated from Vegeta's chest. It caused a shiver to run up her spine as she felt the immediate danger she had placed herself. _Crap_, she cursed to herself. She closed her eyes, bowed her head in shame and mumbled, "Sorry Vegeta, that was out of line."

He glared at her apologetic form as anger boiled inside of his body. His eye twitched, and an unbearable amount of pressure began to scale through his veins. As he clenched and unclenched his fists, he took a deep breath letting it out slowly. His mouth formed a vicious snarl and he rumbled, "Your race exists purely from luck, woman."

She opened her eyes and looked into his eyes. His tight face and bared teeth frightened her, but she felt that this bomb was slightly diffused. Her submissive posture seemed to have calmed the easily agitated man. "Your room will be finished by the end of the week."

His focus left her face and trailed down her body back to the cookies. He grunted, reached toward the plate and quickly snatched it from in front of Bulma. He turned around sharply and exited the room. Once alone, the woman slouched into her chair and let out a sigh of relief. _I have to learn to keep my mouth shut._


	2. Shadows in the Dark

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Disclaimer: I do not own some of these characters.

Shadows in the Dark

"Heard anything juicy lately?" Bulma surprised the old man sitting diligently at his computer console. She let a small tight smile crawl onto her lips as the man took in a quick gasp of air. He then turned in his chair, gave her an open smile and gestured to the seat beside his. She sat down as requested and crossed one leg on top of one the other.

"Depends on what you call juicy, Captain." He was not sure how to respond to the playful manner of the usually serious woman. She came everyday to hear his report which ranged from possible threats to pleas for help. The beautiful, cold woman before him typically listened indifferently while scribbling notes on her yellow pad.

He seemed frightened by her opening greeting, so she curtly replied, "Any threats?" He taped a few keys on his desk and pulled up a new screen in front of them.

"A major deployment recently left Kale in the direction of this region." He pointed to a collection of planets on the border of the despot's territory and neighboring Verda, their current destination. He looked at his captain out of the corner of his eye. He watched as she clinched her jaw tightly and gripped the arms of the chair. Her eyes narrowed angrily at the screen and then swiftly moved to his face. He promptly jumped back into his speech, "They should arrive in seven days."

"They already own those planets. We have to assume they will be collecting Verda next." She spat out the statement like the bitter rind of a lemon. The red planet reminded her of home; the exciting discovery of her own solar system's red planet had been a topic she had followed closely. As one of the few planets still free, she had become familiar with the towns and the people. Having developed regular business partners eager to trade for capsule corporation products, it had become a convenient yet dangerous destination. _And now it's more dangerous than ever_, she thought to herself. "How exact is your estimate?" She questioned the man beside her.

He glanced at his feet and replied solemnly. He knew she would not like this news either. "Give or take a day."

She swallowed the information slowly and stared vaguely in the direction behind his head. Her eyebrows creased together and she drew her thumb towards her lips. After a few moments of contemplation, she posed another question, "Did you notice any scout pods?"

"No, but they could have been silent." He answered her while she was still focused on an unknown spot behind him.

She drew her thumbnail between her teeth and lightly ran the nail over her bottom incisors. She then pushed her thumb against her bottom lip and drew it away decisively. She took a breath which she released to form the words, "Well, we'll have to assume they are already there."

She spent the next five days preparing for Verda. Physically, completing all the trading in one day would be difficult. Emotionally, she was not sure her nerves would survive. But, Genga had supplies they needed, and those necessities outweighed her personal turmoil.

~~~Five Days Later~~~

Bulma took a deep breath before venturing from her ship, Andraste. She always felt uncomfortable planet-side. The threat of being discovered hovered above her and lurked around every corner. Planets offered too many unknowns; too many variables were out the bright woman's control. Unfortunately, some items could not be attained aboard her ship.

The port was busier than usual. "I guess others know they're coming," she conjectured to her companion. The one eyed man nodded to her and scanned the crowd for danger. "You go and refill the canisters. I'll meet you at Genga's."

Tien gave the small woman a questioning look, "It's too dangerous, Bulma."

She gave the large man a convincingly tough look that she was not sure she felt. "Well, it's do or die. Besides, I can take care of myself," she declared to the taller man. He gave one swift nod and began to part the crowd before him. She watched as the powerful man left her and an exposed feeling crept over her. She pushed the feeling aside, placed her hand on the ki manipulator strapped to her lean thigh and made her way through the mass of people.

She heard a man travelling behind her hysterically shouting, "They're coming … they'll be here soon. We have to leave." A woman near him tried to console the man to no avail. Once again, the feeling began to creep up her spin and she increased her pace in an attempt to outrun her escalating fear.

Bulma soon found herself at her destination. Genga's shop presented itself in front of her with ornate purples and reds draping the window. She grabbed the handle and twisted, but found the door blatantly locked. _Damn it_, she cursed under her breath. Banging on the door, she looked to her left where a dark alleyway stared at her with all the ferocity of a caged beast. Her breathing began to increase and her heart began thudding in her chest. She walked to a window attempting to peak through, but the inside of the store was shielded completely by the drapery. She banged on the window loudly, hoping the wretched man would open his door.

Again, her eyes shifted rapidly to the dark alley. She looked deeply into the abyss it presented and tried to make out the barely visible shape within. In the most collected voice she could muster she endeavored to convince herself, "Don't be silly, why would someone sulk in the alley?" But she still turned away from the window, and not able to tear her eyes from the alley, she took a step towards the dangerously inviting blackness. She could no longer hear the busy patrons of the street; the swinging doors and trampling feet were all masked by her loud and deep breathing. Each inhale and exhale seemed to last an eternity as she tried to adjust her eyes to the blackness before her. She felt like a moth to the flame as she took yet another step in the direction of the ominous unknown. As she got closer she was convinced that someone or something was indeed in those shadows. She inspected the degrees of blackness and differentiated a slight outline of a human form.

This all felt familiar to the frightened woman, but before she could place the feeling she heard her name being called from behind. "Bulma! The door is over her gorgeous." The stout green man ventured towards his wayward client, and looked at her curiously.

"Do you see someone in that alley?" asked Bulma quietly lifting an insteedy finger in the direction of her attention. She sucked in her breath through closed teeth as she realized she had made the shape more real by voicing its existence.

"Aw, not you too! This whole town's gone apeship. Now, get you skinny ass in my store before I have to carry you." He waddled in front of her and pushed her hip in the desired direction until she picked up her feet. She traveled towards the store and looked over her shoulder before entering the threshold. She saw white boots barely visible at the border of the alleyway's darkness, but before she could look again, Genga shoved her through the doorway and slammed it shut. "Damn! When logical women such as yourself begin raving, you know it's the end."

She closed her eyes and repeated to herself, _White boots could belong to anyone_. In a daze, she told her obese friend, "They are coming, we tracked their ship." She opened her eyes again to see the green man unfazed by her announcement.

He shrugged his shoulders and placed a sardonic frown on his face. "I aom in business either way, girly. But I guess I'll be missing you." He then replaced his comical look with his industry face and added, "Now, why are you here waking me from my delightful nap?"

She forced her mind into the appropriate mode and announced her desires forcefully, "I need one hundred grams of thulium."

Before she could continue with her demands, her host laughed outloud and answered, "So do you, me and everyone else." He stepped towards her and nudged her lightly with his elbow before continuing, "But for old time's sake I'll see what I can muster up. Just try and contain that crazy while I go out back." He chuckled lightly under his breath while shuffling through a doorway in the back of the room and disappearing from sight.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the muggy, thick air that dwelled in the room. She began to think about her near encounter outside and decided she had indeed been overreacting. _Every bad guy in the universe doesn't have me on their wanted list. Just one very powerful one_, echoed inside of the woman's head. She turned her body away from that line of thinking and pushed air forcibly through her nose in a huff. Unfortunately, her thoughts were not that easy to escape as a memory gripped her conscious.

~~~Prior to Earth's Destruction~~~

Bulma woke suddenly and confused. She reached for her face with her hand and brushed an object stuck to her cheek. She looked down at the offending tagalong to find a pencil bouncing happily on top of a spread of complicating diagrams. She glared at the overlaid lines and formulas. Glancing around the room, she read a digital display to say four o'clock in the morning. She rolled her eyes in response and said out loud, "Great. It turns out I _am_ his slave."

She stood to her feet, allowing the back of her knees to push the chair away from her. Raising her balled fists in the air, she stretched her arms high above her and made a satisfied squeak as her back decompressed. Her stomach rumbled in displeasure, so she shrugged off her lab coat and walked towards the lab mini-fridge. With a small hiss, the fridge opened and a half-eaten, dried pizza stared back at her. She pulled a face of disgust and wondered about the possible age of the food.

Flicking the small door closed, she turned to the main door of her lab and began her voyage to the large fridge located upstairs. Her bare feet made sticking noises on the hard tile of the hallway outside the barely lit kitchen. She entered the room and headed directly to the fridge. Pulling the door open, she bent over to stick her head into the cool blast of air and viewed the offerings it provided. A clear plastic container on the second self looked intriguing, so she grabbed the food and began preparing it for reheating.

As the microwave started humming, she looked around the large kitchen for the first time since entering. The kitchen table sat near the arched opening to the hallway. Through the opening, the table was highlighted by a nightlight at the bottom of the stairs. Her brows creased in concern as she noticed a chair overturned on the far side of the table. She walked towards the chair and replaced it in its upright position. Looking down at the table, she saw an empty plate sitting before the chair. She picked up the plate, brought it to the sink and jumped up on the counter in a sitting position.

Beginning to feel uncomfortable waiting for her food to finish heating in the dark, she walked to the doorway and flipped on the light with a quick snap of her wrist. Leaning against the wall behind the previously overturned chair was her stoic houseguest. She let out a quick, high pitched scream as her hand flew to her chest and she took a step back. After her initial shock wore off, she yelled, "What the hell are you doing here."

He watched her reaction and winced internally at her unnecessary volume. He had begun to accept that the woman had a taste for the unnecessary, but her loudness still irked him. "I presume you know why this room exists," he answered with indifference to her distress.

"Of course I do." She huffed out before adding, "You know, usually people say 'Hi' or 'Good Evening' when someone walks into the room." Teaching etiquette to this man seemed a daunting task, but Bulma felt she was a pioneer and could take on any challenge. "It's quite rude to sulk in dark corners and spy on people."

Ignoring her last comment, he raised an eyebrow and allowed a small mocking smile to crawl onto his lips. "You call _this_ evening." It would not take long to work the woman into a state given her already compromised condition.

"No!" She shouted. Then staring over his body in the closest imitation of derision she could rally, she continued, "I've been working on your stupid room."

He looked away from her in disinterest and pushed off the wall towards her. He moved with the prowess of a cat stalking its prey to stop a foot in front of her. Although he barely looked down to meet her gaze, his intimidating posture overshadowed her completely. "Inefficiently, I see," he continued in a gravelly, thick voice. His proximity weakened her ability to respond. She could smell the brisk scent of his recent shower and heat seemed to wash over her from his body. She found herself wondering about the Saiyan's natural body temperature. As her scientific mind traveled to guessing at his average heart rate, her gaze drifted from his eyes to the place in his chest where his heart resided. He watched her in annoyance as his banter seemed to encounter apathy.

A dinging from behind them snapped Bulma from her daze and she turned to the microwave. Once she looked back to her guest, she only found empty space. Sighing, she turned back to her food and wondered at Vegeta's strange moods.

~~~Present Day~~~

Bulma, shook her head of the memory and cursed her overactive mind. _That particular Saiyan did hide in shadows, but that doesn't mean every shadow contains him._ She tried once again to convince herself. She glanced towards the door in apprehension of it being burst open by an irate Saiyan, but that event did not occur. Instead, the green man announced his presence behind the counter with a, "You better have something good for me, pretty girl."

She scoffed lightly at his ridiculous pet names and took a few long strides towards him swaying her hips from side-to-side. "I'm sure you'll approve," she replied in a low, sexy tone trying to sell her product with any aid available. She reached into her pocket, drew out two small capsules, put them on the counter between them and began to describe them, "One hundred KM1000s, the newest in ki manipulation weaponry and five advanced healing chambers, better than anything those Icejin-freaks could develop."

"Outdone yourself again. One day you'll have to tell me how your beauty and brains got in the same gene pool." Genga looked at the woman before him in wonder. When the woman first wondered into his shop, he figured she was a dignitary for a group of scientists, but as time went on he came to realize she was the brains of the operation.

Bulma was reminded of her mother and her in ability to cope with the changes in their lives. She may have gained model-like genes from her, but her father's contribution is what kept her people alive. She gave a close lipped smile to the shop owner and replied, "Yes, quite the mystery." Although she was willing to use her feminine wails to her advantage, she had to admit sometimes her beauty was a curse.

Genga raised a fisted hand over Bulma's hand and dropped a small capsule. "Eight Hundred grams. Don't ever say a never did anything for ya." He looked at the capsule now in her hands and then grabbed his two capsules. Turning around he placed his new acquisitions in a draw and began, "Oh yeah, before you leave. I got a request from a client. Have you made a gravity manipulation system?" He wearily asked the question without turning to face the woman.

Every fiber in Bulma's body froze with a sudden force that knocked the breath from her lungs. She answered in a dazed whisper, "gravity … manipulation." Her pupils dilated with fear, she clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders. Righting her mind, she slammed a fist onto the metal counter between the man and herself before demanding, "What client, what did he look like?"

He looked over his shoulder at the angry woman behind him. Turning lazily, he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and answered, "Short, dangerous …"

Before he could continue, she cut him off, "Was he Saiyan?" She held her breath as he mulled over the question.

Now facing the blue haired woman, he slowly and methodically answered, "You know, he just might have been." While delivering his statement he creased his eyebrows together and nodding his head in agreement. The front door to the room creaked open just as the green man confirmed her fears. She whipped around violently to see her compatriot, Tien, enter the room.

As soon as she saw Tien, Bulma immediately ran to him, grabbed hold of the larger man's arm, and whispered through clenched teeth, "They know we are here." Tien stuttered something intelligible in return and Bulma looked towards Genga. In a frantic yet commanding tone she asked the green man, "Do you have a back way out?"

He looked at her with empathy and gestured towards the back room. "There's a back exit. If you take a left out of the gate, it will lead directly to the port." He walked through the back room, looking behind him to see if the pair was following him.

Bulma raced passed Genga and located the back door. She turned to the shop owner and compassionately stated, "Thank you Genga." Grabbing the green man's shoulders, she leaned forward and kissed one of his cheeks. Leaning back, she smiled at him and whispered, "Good luck!" She and Tien ducked out of the exit, turned left and ran towards their ship.

Just after Bulma's Blue tendrils disappeared out of the back door and Genga was still revealing in Bulma's kiss, he heard his front door slam open. He hurried to his counter to aid the incoming customer. Once entering the front room of his shop, he saw the back of a short muscular man leaning against the counter. The intruder's hair and battle uniform immediately announced his identity. Even facing the opposite direction, Vegeta's proximity spewed out danger. At the front door, a blank faced man stood at guard with a stiff posture and hands clasped behind his back. Genga looked to the man leaning at his counter as the Saiyan turned around slowly and glared knowingly at the fat green man.

Genga felt powerless and utterly helpless. The man's eyes bored into his. Vegeta cocked his head slightly to the side raising his eyebrows minutely, anticipating the delivery of good news. Genga stuttered out, "It's done. I put it in her capsule." Genga took a step back, hoping that his usefulness had not run out for the Saiyan prince.

Vegeta's smooth voice cut through the thick air and the scared man gave a small sigh in relief as Vegeta responded, "Good." Vegeta looked down at the pathetic man in front of him disgusted by his obvious display of fear. "And what kind of treat did she give in return," he questioned as he scowled over the counter at the man's trembling form.

Genga reached into the draw behind him and drew out two capsules. He placed them on the counter and said, "Guns and Tanks." He hoped the honest delivery of the technology would spare his life.

Vegeta glanced down at the capsules and grabbed the one labeled 'T,' looked back at the sweating, fat man and haughtily saying, "I have no use for guns."

"Of course not, Sir," Genga allowed the words to dribble out of his mouth. He wiped his forehead with the back of his palm and continued, "Why would a capable man such …"

Vegeta cut him off briskly with a calmly stated innocent question, "Do you know what I despise?" The prince watched the man squirm in fear, gulp air down his throat and shake his head with small, rapid trembles. Vegeta leaned forward, grabbed the sweaty man by his throat and growled, "Traitors."

Genga was trapped by Vegeta's tight grasp and intense eyes. He tried to nod his head in agreement and squeezed out a sentence through his constricted throat, "I would never …"

Vegeta grunted is disagreement and menacingly said, "Your track record says differently." He tightened his grip on the offensive man. He continued, "How do you expect me to trust you, when you could trick that woman?" He pulled the sweating, trembling man over the counter dragging his body like a rag doll over the sharp corners of the metal counter. Cuts formed on the fat man's stubby legs and the potent smell of blood filled the Saiyan's nostrils. The smell reminded him of battle, of victory, and a tingling rush pulsed through his whole body in anticipation. He growled out, "With friends like you, she'd be better off with me." He ended the statement with a snap of his wrist. Genga's head fell limply to the side and a gurgling noise emanated from his mouth as life left his beady, frightened eyes.

Vegeta dropped the dead body and it crumpled to the ground with an empty thud. He turned to his companion and amusingly said, "Now, let's see where the little rabbit runs."


	3. The Tortuous Journey

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Disclaimer: I do not own most of these characters.

The Tortuous Journey

The observation deck had become one of the only a soothing places for the strained woman. The serene stars existed amongst each other in an indescribable beauty. Once clear of the border planet systems, Bulma had come to sit in relative peace and contemplate their dilemma. Shortly after, her father joined her, and they sat in silence enjoying each other's company.

After some time, she turned her head to look at her rapidly aging father. He looked worn, almost as worn as she felt. She parted her lips to say something comforting, but she could think of nothing. She glanced down at the floor between them and whispered, "I don't know how he found us."

He had expected it to be hard to survive without a home planet, but it would be nearly impossible if Vegeta was chasing them. He looked at his daughter. Before this, she had been cheerful and playful, but now he rarely saw an honest smile grace her delicate face. Generally she wore a worried frown which was exacerbated by the recent event on Verda. The old man shook his head is dismay, and responded, "He was always extremely determined."

She looked at her father's face again and took in a slow shaky breath. "He asked Genga about the gravity room. He wants his precious toy back." She spat out the last sentence with barely contained rage. A few years ago she thought it would be a great idea to build the Saiyan a training tool. He had seemed so lost on Earth without a goal, and she was happy to assist him with the state of the art training system. She allowed the memory to pass through her mind before definitively adding, "I'll never let him have it."

Her father looked apprehensively at his now angry daughter and cautiously said, "If he leaves us alone, it might be worth it." Compromise was never Bulma's strong suit, but then that was a trait she shared with the Saiyan prince.

She looked at her father enraged at the idea. "Don't be ridiculous. He would make us slaves for his army." She had heard tales of scientist being captured and taken to Kale to conduct research. The new Saiyan Kingdom was steadily gaining strength. It was rumored that they would soon challenge the Ice-jin's for territory. The technological advances which came from Kale were complimenting the Saiyan's brute strength perfectly. She would not let herself assist them. The results would be devastating.

He looked defeated and with hunched shoulders continued, "Maybe, but he will catch us Bulma. The man never gives up." That inevitable fact had haunted him since Verda. Worry had begun doing summersaults in his stomach when he foresaw his daughter's rash response to being captured by their ex-ally. Bulma's tactics were as elusive as a bulldozer. He attempted to demonstrate diplomacy by adding, "And I would rather support the enemy we know, than the one we don't."

Bulma jumped to her feet in a blind rage and screamed, "No! Those monkeys are barbarians. I will die before I help him!" She could not believe what her father was suggesting. She looked down at her still seated father with anger on her face, but sadness in her eyes. She settled back into her chair and weakly mumbled, "We can't."

Her father placed his arm around his defeated daughter and pulled her into a hug. He soothingly rubbed her back and whispered, "We'll think of something sweetie."

* * *

A thin boned bald creature stood in front of him fumbling with a stack of papers in his hands. Anxiety poured out of the pink skinned alien as he dropped the pile of papers and bent to pick them up. Vegeta watch the proceedings down his nose and gave a sideways glaze to his companion. Reading the inpatient glare of his leader, Bardock reached down to retrieve the fallen papers. After handing them back to the disheveled worker, he asked, "What are your findings?"

The pink creature loudly proclaimed, "I know where they are" in a voice he had yet learned to control around his moody and dangerous boss. He gulped as he saw what he thought to be a very angry face, become even angrier.

"I would hope so, you imbecile! It's a tracking device." Vegeta had little patience for half of his moronic crew, but this one especially irritated him because of the information he was withholding. He considered replacing his anxious worker and in doing so, he could release some pent up frustration he had been harboring. He allowed different methods of removal to travel through his mind. As he thought of the petrified creature's demise, hollowness crept into his eyes and the blank face of death fell over his face. The look that now overcame his features had almost been forgotten while marooned on Earth and it angered him even further when he thought of how easily he had been placated.

The analyst's knees knocked together as he could sense a painful death to be the reward for insufficient intelligence. "Yes, Yes Sir." The frightened alien responded, attempting to control his fear and accurately deliver the report.

Bardock jumped in knowing the young Prince was particularly unstable when discussing any subject surrounding Earth. He calmly stepped forward, redirecting the worker's attention towards him, and calmly asked, "What patterns have you discovered?" He hoped the poor analyzer would be able to deliver some intelligible data or he was afraid Vegeta's temper would be released.

The small pink man looked from Vegeta to Bardock, and the older man's face relaxed him slightly. He took a breath, closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. He had prepared the speech before arriving, but the Prince froze his ability to think correctly. Opening his eyes and staring behind the two men, he delivered his speech, "The humans have cleared the border planets and are now stationary outside of this system." The man grabbed a sheet of paper and pushed it towards Bardock with shaking hands. Bardock looked down at the paper and recognized the system to be uninhabited. The man continued, "Communication started two days ago between the Andraste and Planet 432, but we were unable to break through the decrypting to decipher the signals."

Vegeta broke the dialogue by roughly proclaiming, "That planet was deemed vacant." Planet 432 had been declared uninhabitable ten years ago by a deployment of the Ice-jin's. "Those lizards must have done a half assed job." Completely ignoring the foul smelling creature who had delivered the news, he turned to Bardock and announced, "Looks like we have a destination." He smiled viciously and chuckled under his breath. _We'll corner you soon enough, Woman._

The forgotten man stuck his hand in the air wearily and squeaked, "Sir." Vegeta turned his head in the direction of the creature with a disgusted face. "The Andraste has deployed three pods to the surface: two containing personal and one empty."

Vegeta turned away from the man and announced, "Well Bardock, he just may be useful." The Saiyan prince then walked out of the room in long powerful strides. Leaving the presence of the creature was a high priority; the smell of fear was intoxicating and noxious; it made him want to destroy.

Bardock was quickly behind the prince and falling in stride with his superior he questioned, "Going planetside, Sir?" The wise Saiyan had yet to understand the prince's infatuation with the human's. A gravity simulator sounded like a good training aid, but the experience could be duplicated on many planets.

Vegeta smirked in anticipation. "Both, You and I. We'll have a welcoming party." Vegeta thought about different strategies he could employ to outsmart the woman. Capturing her pathetic ship would be easy, but he preferred a longer hunt. Seeing the woman tremble in fear on Verda had been a thrill he had long been without. Fear was something he had rarely received from her. On Earth, she felt a misguided since of protection and camaraderie with him, and he was besieged by her gregarious and intriguing nature.

* * *

~~~ _Prior to Earth's Destruction _~~~

Vegeta watched from the roof as his gravity chamber was being built by a collection of weak men. Three of the earthlings stood near a tree, and he could faintly hear them debating the outcome of a recent sport. He silently snarled from his perch at the inefficient approach to construction that was acceptable on this planet. _I will discuss this with the Woman later_, he thought to himself. The noise of a door sounded below him, and the woman of his consideration emerged.

She looked around the yard and noticed the three loitering men. Dressed only in a robe, she immediately marched towards them and said, "I am not paying you to be sport analysts. I'm paying you to build!" She pointed at the unfinished gravity room in anger, and they immediately scrambled, mumbling to each other under their breath as they resumed working. Frustrated that she had to babysit employees she paid overtime, she walked to the pool and began to remove her robe.

Vegeta smirked in agreement as the lazy personnel spoke of the woman demonstratively, but cocked his head in confusion as their opinions of her changed rapidly. A steady flow of "She can talk to me any way she wants," "I wouldn't mind having her boss me around," and "Damn" came from the men building his room.

He turned his head to the men's focus to see the Woman barely covered by two small pieces of blue cloth. Vegeta stole a quick intake of breath into his lungs as she dived into the water gracefully. Watching her body deftly glide through the water, he felt a small rush develop inside his body. She emerged from the crystal water taking in a gulp of fresh air, and leaned her head back into the water to flatten her hair against her head. As she did, Vegeta's eyes were drawn to her breasts as their floated on top of the water with the buoyancy of a cork. He observed small droplets of water travel from her face, down her slender neck to pool in the small pit where her neck met her collar bone. Then the drops of water resumed their tortuous journey to the swell of her breast to finally rejoin with their equals in the large pool. Vegeta licked his lips slowly as he followed the path with his eyes even after the droplets were gone.

* * *

His musings were interrupted by an aggravating question. He shook his head to lose his previous train of thought and snapped to Bardock. Fury welled inside of him at his reminiscing. His companion stood stiffly beside him and laboriously asked, "Has the King given permission to pursue?"

Before Bardock could respond, Vegeta had slammed a fist again his chin sending him flying into the wall behind him. In a second, the Prince was on top of him grabbing him by the throat and crushing his body into the metal wall. The metal creaked behind him as he felt it bend around his body. A cracking noise popped in his ear as a rib buckled under the enraged Saiyan's pressure. "That old man can rot in hell. You mention him again and you'll be waiting for him there." Vegeta roared the words at his captor. Rage filled his vision. Rage at himself for bringing his feeble father back to life. Rage at his predicament of not wanting to rule, but not wanting to serve. He transferred his rage to Bardock and slapped the man unconscious leaving him crumpled on the floor against the wall. He continued down the hallway to the podbay, leaping into one deftly, he set the coordinate to Planet 432 and closed his eyes to drift in a dreamless sleep.


	4. Scents and Signatures

Sorry it took so long, especially if you are reading "Barbarous Bulma" as well. I know I really left you hanging there. I am pretty sure the ki concept has been mentioned in other stories, but it is impossible not to include. We know he can sense ki. Thank you for being patient. As always, I would love to hear from you! Both positive and negative reviews are welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own some of these characters.

**Scents and Signatures**

Stepping from the small pod, Bulma took a deep breath of the clean air the beautiful planet provided. The lush green grass swayed in a gentle breeze which caused leaves in the nearby trees rustle. The difference between Verda and planet 432 was astounding. She had come to call this place her second home, and the human survivors who now inhabited the once deserted planet had come to call it Gia. Unfortunately, the Andraste was her home now and living a simple life like that of the surviving humans was impossible. She missed her home planet, but she had to accept that Earth was gone. She looked down at her short, colorless nails paying special attention to the small cracks which had developed on her cuticles. _That life is gone_, she told herself slowly. Her planet-side companion, Tein, could now be heard approaching from behind her and she turned to him and said, "I never get over how like earth it is."

He nodded in agreement and pulled out a shortwave communication device. Bulma ignored him as he talked into the device, and she turned around capsulating the three pods. Sticking them safely in her pocket, she walked forward into the meadow before her. The breeze picked up her hair and the weight being lifted from her shoulders felt like the weight of a world. Facing the man behind her, she said, "I'm gonna go on my own. See you in town." With that said, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a hot pink capsule. After throwing it to the ground, a similarly colored hover bike popped onto the scene with a little puff of smoke. Before Tein could respond, she was on the bike, revving the engine and speeding out of sight. Tein shoke his head at her spontaneous behavior, and watching the cloud of dust behind her, he thought to himself,_ I suppose she deserves a little fun_.

* * *

Stepping out of his pod, he crushed something green underneath his bleach white boots and the potent smell of trampled grass rose to his nose. He looked around the planet and discovered an area completely contrary to what the reports presented. _So, this is where they are hiding_, he thought to himself about the remaining humans. He stepped through the disgustingly lush foliage cursing the branches as they attempted to whip him as if they disapproved of his presence. Once entering an opening, Vegeta scanned the horizon. A utopia of sorts met his eyes; the world reminded him of the small planet on which he was trapped a few years ago. He grimaced at the shameful memory of his previous acceptance of inhabiting the now annihilated planet. He brought a finger to the side of his face to tap the sole button on the scouter. The green tinted lens presented a plethora of small signals emitting from the north and two separated signals to the east. He reached out with his mind and felt a sickeningly alluring and familiar signature. Baring his teeth, he lowered his own ki signature and flew low to the ground in the direction of east. During his journey, memories whipped around him like the cold hard sting of air he propelled himself against.

* * *

_Prior to Earth's Destruction_

He sat in his bed staring blankly at the perfectly clean, white ceiling above him. In the eve of a new day, the moonless night caused the room to be pitch-black, but he could still clearly see the smooth walls around him. He compared the soft plaster to the hard, shinny walls of the ships where he had grown up. How unfamiliar his life had become. He swung his legs around in disgust and accepted that his night would once again be sleepless. He tossed the starch white sheet to the floor and slammed his bare feet against them as he stood up and walked to the adjoining bathroom. He turned the sparkling silver handle and ice cold water slivered through his fingers. He grabbed the flowing water with his large cupped hands and splashed the daggers of freezing wetness onto his heated face. The water immediately trickled down his neck onto his uncovered chest, and he let out a burst of energy, vaporizing the water instantly. With an intense grip he secured his hands around the porcelain sink and took a deep breath of angry hot air. Looking down at the pooling water, he saw his own garbled reflection and shook his head in shame. _The Prince of Saiyan's and I'm placated on this disgustingly supple mud ball_; thoughts ran through his head, but he forced them down with brutish diligence.

He snapped from his revere after hearing a car door slam outside the house. He heard the juvenile giggling of two imbeciles as they struggled to open the front door. The door slammed downstairs, keys dropped and furniture could be heard moving in the hallway. His eyebrows drew together as he concentrated on the two invaders: the woman and her mate. He had learned to identify her ki from quite a distance as he often had to uncover her whereabouts for progress updates on his gravity room. He kept track of her position around the house throughout the day. It had become a challenge for him; her signature was so feeble only the most distinguished sensitivity could locate her. But now that unparalleled ability haunted him as he could sense tiny fluctuations in her ki. He heard a deep muffled moan, followed by a higher pitched short sigh and then a soft voice saying, "Let's go upstairs."

Feet shuffled through the hallway, up the stairs and down another hallway until he could hear their breathing outside his door. He kept his position in his bathroom, his hands still grasping the sink. More giggling, the door shutting, rustling of clothes, and then the light bouncing of her bed springs invaded his ears. He closed his eyes tight and tried to divide his concentration, but it was inevitably brought back to her teasing, irregular ki. It made the hair on his arms stand on end. Her excitement poured over him as he could sense every shudder of pleasure she received. He growled slightly and pushed his body off of the sink. He exited his room to put distance between himself and her bedroom. As he entered the hallway, he could hear soft noises of gratification emitting from her room. His eyes uncontrollably turned into slits of hatred and he cursed the occupants of the room for reasons he did not understand. Once safely in the kitchen, he retrieved some food and forcibly turned his mind away from her. He tore open a square plastic container and not caring what was inside, he shoved the morsels into his dissatisfied mouth.

He glared out the window at his nearly completed training facility and images from the day before flashed though his mind. The memory of her delicate body and supple curves egged his mind forward and combined provocatively with the excitable and tingling air her ki signature created. He felt his entire body tensing and warm blood rushing through his veins. He had rarely allowed himself to indulge in such feelings, and he did not intend to start now. He slammed his fist into the counter and released a deep, guttural growl. _I have no interest in that weakling_, he affirmed to himself but he still tracked the electric signature coming from upstairs until it finally dwindled away from excitement. He looked down at his tightly balled fist on the counter to find a large indentation formed around it. He was definitely affected by the woman. He turned around in anger, grabbed a chair and threw it across the room. Pieces of wood shattered around the room as he huffed in fury blind to the destruction and racket he had caused. Attempting to calm his ragged nerves, he closed his eyes and took slow breaths forcing his body to relax. He repeated to himself methodically, _Control yourself_. After a few minutes, he felt his face attain its usual stoic features and his pulse slowing from its rapid pace. As he opened his eyes again, he saw the worried face of the infernal woman in front of him.

Taking a tentative step forward she softly questioned, "Vegeta, Are you OK?" She tightened the silk robe around her slim body and looked at the destroyed chairs beside them. He looked at her disheveled hair and flushed face, then allowed his gaze to sink and linger on her pert breast. They strained against the barely noticeable fabric and their firm shape could be detected from being chilled. As she took long even breaths, Vegeta was mesmerized by the steady rising and falling of her chest. He breathed in her inviting scent which caused both disgust and arousal to stir within him. His eyes snapped to hers as she turned to look from the chair to him. Hate surged out of his dark impenetrable eyes, and his lips tightened in revulsion. But concern had overcome her, and she pulled her plump bottom lip inside her mouth in anxiety. "Um," she said in discomfort and tugging a piece of loose hair behind her ear, she continued, "What happened to the chair?" He looked away from her to the wall three feet to her right and ignored her completely. She took another step forward and reached her arm towards him. He jumped back like a coiled spring, and a low defensive rumble emitted from his chest. On the contrary from usually being unable to read any emotion from her houseguest, Bulma detected a slight amount of fear from him. The fear one senses from a wild animal back into a corner. She looked on in surprise, unsure how to react to his display. Hoping to lighten his mood, she glanced quickly behind him to the back lawn and said, "The gravity room should be finished tomorrow." Vegeta 'humphed' in response and stiffly exited the room. He swore to himself he would never allow the woman to affect him again.

* * *

_Present Day_

After a short amount of time driving around the countryside, Bulma reached a beautiful multilevel waterfall overlooking tremendous bluff. She stopped her bike, dismounted and trotted to the crystal clear water. She could see the bottom of the pooling water where smooth fist sized rocks swayed rhythmically from the onslaught of water. It looked incredibly inviting. She touched the water and felt the crisp, cool sensation. Removing her shoes, she sank her tired feet into the invigorating water and leaning back onto the ground, she closed her eyes in intense relaxation. It had been longer than she could remember since she felt so relaxed. The rush of water and the whispering of the wind lulled her into deserving peace. A satisfied sigh escaped her parted lips as she raised her arms above her head, and she allowed herself to fall into a pleasant nap.

A large crashing sound jarred the sleeping woman and she announced, "What the hell." She leaped to her feet and looked around for the source of the noise. Nothing; not a single thing was out of place. Confused, she stepped closer to the bluff and finally noticed the absent place her bike had once been. She had parked the bike at least ten feet from the cliff. _There's no way_, she thought to herself in dismay. Peering hopefully down the thirty foot drop, she saw her fears confirmed. Her pink beautiful bike lay on the bottom of the cliff in a mangled collection of metal. "Shit!" she screamed into the wind that whipped around the bluff. She had only brought one vehicle, and her prize bike was definitely beyond repair. She stomped back to the waterfall, grabbed her shoes, and forced her still wet feet into them. Reaching into her pockets she checked her capsules for a vehicle that she may have forgotten and came up lacking. "I'll have to radio for help," she said out loud to herself. She moved her hand to her left hip to pull the radio from its clip, but found nothing there. She looked at her hip in surprise, gapping at the empty clip. She began to feel a small twinge of fear develop in her gut, but she ignored the feeling. Throwing down her 'emergency' capsule, a puff of smoke revealed a metal utility box. She searched to box for another radio, but once again came up lacking and encapsulated the box. "Okay, get down to the bike and survey the damage." She talked to herself calmly in a business-like tone.

Walking to the ledge, she looked down and knew scaling it would be impossible. She began to walk, hoping to find an area where that would be possible. The bare rock looked loose and jagged, but eventually she would find a path. After a short amount of time, she found a less steep ridge which she felt she could get down. Bulma crouched down and grabbing a firmly implanted rock, she slowly lowered one leg to a small flat stop below her. Gusts of wind pushed and pulled her towards and away from the rocks to which she clung. She held her breath and forced every muscle to tense as she stretched one arm to a lower rock, gave a test tug and gripped it with all the strength her fingers would allow. The rough, sharp rocks made minuscule wounds on her hand which felt like paper cuts all along her palms. The dust stuck to her skin like make-up and imprinted itself into her cuts. She was frightened and as a result, sweat started to leak from her pores. It dripped into her eyes, simultaneously stinging and partly blinding her.

But she held to her plan. Repeating this process several times, she began to feel more confident in her climbing ability. About six feet from the bottom, she grabbed hold of a large rock and lowered her leg as she had done before. Just before she could firmly place her foot in the secure spot, she heard a small shifting noise above her. She whipped her head around to look at the rock her fingers were wrapped around, and she saw the tan colored object shifting in small increments from the wall. She gulped and felt herself begin to fall in a slow reality just after the rock pulled itself entirely from its spot.

Her back hit the ground hard and she felt her leg sear in pain. All the wind was stolen from her body, and she stared up at the blue cloudless sky in shock. She felt incapable of thinking clearly and her vision was doubled. As her mind and vision aligned, she craned her head to examine her body. She raised her hand to her face and tried to push herself up with her other hand. After a small struggle, she was sitting upright. Taking a deep, ragged breath she tenderly touched her leg. Pulling her hand back in front of her face, a thick red liquid met her gaze. She took in a quick breath through her teeth and built up the courage to look at her throbbing leg. Turning her knee inwards slightly, she saw a deep gash along her the front of her leg. "Shit," she said, not for the first or last time. She needed to stop the bleeding, and tearing a strip from her dusty shirt, she pushed the cloth against the cut on her thigh. Her stomach began to revolt inside of her and she swallowed the thick, dry spit that blanketed the back of her throat. She tried to think of a plan, but her pounding leg occupied much of her thinking ability.

_I need shelter_, she thought to herself and looked around for potential predators lying in wait. Seeing none, she squeezed her hand into her tight pocket trying not to aggravate her already excruciating pain. With difficultly she pulled a small damaged box from her pocket. Opening it, she found the one label 'house' and saw large gash down the length of it. "Shit," she said again out loud, "It's useless." She closed her eyes tightly, prayed to every god she had ever known and threw the capsule to the ground twenty feet away. Nothing happened. Cursing once again, she felt hot angry tears cloud her vision, lifted her head to the sky and screamed, "Can anything else go wrong!"

"If you would like." The deep voice was behind her and she swung her torso around violently causing her leg to respond in acute, mind numbing pain. She clenched her teeth, but tried to keep her face impassive. Vegeta stood behind her with his arms crossed and an amused expression plastered to his face. He wore a scouter over one eye, stark white boots, and a skin tight royal blue uniform underneath sleeveless armor. He looked at her grimacing face and then down to her slender legs. The dust beneath her right leg was absorbing an alarming amount of her deep red blood. The potent iron scent drifted to him in waves with the breeze.

It had been over a year since she had seen him, and she still had never forgotten the look she was now receiving. Rage boiled within her. She forgot to question how he had found the planet and forgot her leg was trying to relieve her body of essential blood. She looked at him defiantly and spit out, "I hate you!" She held his intense gaze to see him lift one eyebrow minutely. His eyes once again shifted to her leg and then back to her furious little face. He erased every sign of feeling from his face and retained his expertly practiced military stare. He took a step closer to her and she screamed, "Don't take a step closer," followed by a hysterical, "just leave me alone."

He narrowed his eyes and continued on his path to her injured body. He then matter-of-facty told her in a thick, deep voice, "You're in no position to give orders, woman." He saw her slightly stutter in response and then take a whimper of a breath into her weak body. Once reaching her body, he crouched down over her leg and examined the appendage detachedly. Out of the side of his vision, he looked at the blue haired woman.

She was trying to keep her eyes open, but with much difficulty as was apparent by her uninterrupted blinking. She was trying to keep the dangerous man hovering over her in focus, but he seemed to be eluding her. She found it hard to concentrate; she felt like she was devastatingly drunk, but she confusedly knew she was not. She focused on one of his dark eyes and softly slurred, "It's your fault." She then looked down at the vivid red below her and mumbled, "My home." Her eyes closed on their own accord, and she felt like she was falling down an endless pit.

He held his face in trained indifference as he heard her feebly accuse him for her home's demise. If he were capable, he might feel remorse but no definitive feeling surfaced inside him. Having nearly passed out from lack of blood before, he knew she was tottering on the edge. He prepared himself to catch her fall, and just as he began to move, her back gently slumped onto his arm. He lowered her to the ground and pulled his arm away. Looking at her helpless body, he felt a surge of conflicting emotions try to claw their way into his consciousness. _You are here for a Gravity room_, he told himself mechanically and effectively squashed any of his vying sentiments. Rising to a standing position, he straightened his back stiffly and reached in his armor. Grabbing a small white capsule, he threw it to the ground and a large white dome appeared on the field in front of them. He walked to her left side and knelt down beside her. Placing one arm behind her neck and the other behind her knees he lifted the woman from her pool of blood. She was limp in his arms just like so many of the helpless creatures he has chaperoned to death. One of her arms fell to her side and swung like a pendulum as he carried her into the capsule house.


	5. Conquering

Yes, it has been a long time. I had to come back … I missed your reviews, oh so much! ;) I would love to hear whether you like the pre or post-destruction sections better. I would especially like to know your opinions on the narration switching between times.

Disclaimer: I do not own … sigh … any of these characters.

Conquering

A warm, soothing sensation embraced her as if she were in a cocoon. Bulma could barely open her eyes, but she pried them open as the intense feeling of comfort slipped away. A foggy vision delivered nothing intelligible to her slumbering brain. She closed her eyes tight and opened them again trying to clear the plastic looking film which prevented her from seeing. She suddenly felt cold as one of the layers obscuring her vision seemed to slither down and out of her sight. She looked down at her naked body to discover it wet and tried to stir her brain for a reason why. But all that ran through her mind was, _cold_. She was suddenly less cold and wet as a downy soft object covered her exposed skin. Blinking confusedly she tried to grip the softness with her fingers, but found her body disturbingly unresponsive. She then felt herself hovering above the ground as a hot feeling encompassed her skin. She curled as close as she could to the pleasant sensation and heard herself give a sigh of pleasure. A rumbling was given in return which sounded similar to a pleased lion, and she pushed her face into the wonderfully reassuring sound.

Vegeta looked down at the befuddled woman in his arms. It was obvious that she was still dazed by the regeneration tank, but he was still surprised by her comfort level. _It seems as if her subconscious doesn't hate me._ He allowed himself a light chuckle at this thought before depositing her form onto the massive bed. He looked down at her thin body as she released a dissatisfied whimper and pulled herself into a fetal position. He allowed his gaze to trace down her long blue hair, passed the fluffy towel, and to her slender legs. Her pale legs where altogether exposed which allowed his scrutinizing stare to focus on the alluring curve of her thigh which led to her small firm butt. Anger began to grow within the Saiyan as he realized he was allowing himself to ogle the woman. He turned swiftly, exiting the room to find himself sustenance in the small capsule kitchen.

Bulma's mind slowly kicked into gear as she realized that she was laying on a soft bed rather than hard dusty ground. She opened her eyes and immediately recognized herself to be in a capsule house. The curved white walls and the placement of the bathroom door allowed her to deduce that it was an older model capsule house and not the model she carried in her emergency kit. She vaguely remembered trying to deploy her capsule. She shot up to a sitting position like a rocket and felt her towel glide off of her body. Looking down with a blush, she pulled the towel back over her body and looked down at her leg. She brought her hand to her thigh and lightly traced where she remembered a deep cut. _Healed … like nothing happened._ She commented to herself slowly as she tried to remember what had happened. _I fell, cut my leg, there was a lot of blood, but how did I end up here?_ She knew one of two things had to have happened: her memory was foggy because she had been in a regeneration tank or it had all been a dream.

Deciding to get dressed before playing detective, Bulma walked towards the closet and opened the door. A neat line of blue shirts and pants met her vision. This caused a sickly sensation to slide across her body, and her stomach began to do summersaults. She grabbed a set of clothes and pulled the oversized material over her naked body. As soon as the shirt passed over her head, she could smell his distinctive scent. _Oh, God_, she thought as she braced the closet doorframe. She placed one hand on the waist of the pants to keep them in place and turned towards the shut bedroom door. She contemplated staying in the room as long as possible, hoping that she could keep what was out of sight out of her mind as well. Unfortunately, the memory of Vegeta's smug face entered her mind. She gulped down her fear and walked towards the door. She wrapped her hand tentatively around the door handle and stilled her breathing to listen for noises on the other side of the door. She closed her eyes, turned the knob and pushed the door open.

As if a King on his throne, Vegeta sat on the couch which gave him a direct view of the bedroom door. He had removed his battle armor and wore a sleeveless shirt that showcased his tan muscular arms which were draped along the back of couch. He felt as satisfied as a cat with a mouse, and that feeling translated perfectly to his demeanor. The woman was finally emerging from the room, and a small part of him wondered if she had dressed yet. As the door drifted open, his gaze fell on the closed lidded woman. He smirked at her attire, and satisfyingly noted the shirt's collar as it fell the reveal a small shaking shoulder. His eyes slowly drifted up her neck and her face to see her eyes opening, and her face hardening at the sight of the Saiyan Prince. Her jaw set, and he pleasurably saw furry begin to swirl in her deep blue eyes.

Upon opening her eyes, all her fear left her and the familiar rage that the man always seemed to cause filled her head. She placed all the blame of Earth's destruction solely in the hands of the Prince. Even though fear was rational; all she could feel for him was intense hatred. "What the hell are you doing here?" She practically spat at the man before her. She watched as his infuriating smirk only increased and huffing she continued, "How did you find us?" She glared into his dark eyes, trying to get an intelligible read from him. A few years ago she felt as if she was beginning to master the Saiyan's facial expressions, but that talent had left her. This train of thought reminded her that apparently she had not understood the man as well as she thought back then. She felt an intense sadness begin to leak through her fury. A familiar thought echoed in her mind, _how could I have been so wrong_? This drudged up the first time she thought she had begun to conquer the Saiyan mind.

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

Yamcha was sure she would be pleased; he was absolutely confident. He looked down to the bouquet of roses in his hands. _Red roses are a symbol for love, and she must know I love her_, he told himself convincingly as he stepped out of his car and onto the sidewalk. Their relationship had been particularly difficult as of late. She always seemed either too distracted or too tired to pay her boyfriend proper attention, and he attributed the wandering eye he had developed to this very fact. As he reached the main entrance, he knocked firmly and butterflies began to dance in his stomach. He was excited to see the beautiful woman again and began to develop a strange anticipation about her greeting. This date would be a surprise, but then Bulma had always loved an adventure. After a few minutes of waiting and no response, he knocked again but to no avail. _Maybe she's outback_, he rationalized and began to make his way around the large house. Yamcha strutted his way to the kitchen door, but before he could reach his destination, he looked through the kitchen sink window to see the angry heiress screaming at an unseen object.

"You have got to be kidding me," she screamed at the broad man in front of her. "I have barely slept for weeks and now you want more!" Bulma threw a hand to her forehead and traced her fingers slowly down the features of her face. She had slaved away at that ridiculous toy of his and now he wanted her to build battle droids. "I absolutely refuse to build you friends Vegeta! You're just going to have to make you own." She closed her eyes in exasperation and began to trudge her way out of the room. Unfortunately, rather than meeting open air she met a solid, warm surface. Bracing herself from the impact, she shot her hands out in front of her body and directly onto an extremely muscular chest.

"Control yourself, woman." The Saiyan could barely contain his amusement as her face ran through a series of easily distinguishable features: surprise, intrigue, embarrassment and finally, anger. He watched as her face reddened, and she attempted to stutter a response. But before she could manage to formulate a sentence, he continued, "You will build me training enhancements," he leaned into her slightly and deeply added, "little one." Vegeta watched her carefully and pleasurably anticipated a boisterous response from the already distressed woman.

Bulma swiftly pulled her hands to her sides as her uncomfortable proximity to the intimidating Saiyan began to cause a rush of something indescribable within her. She then began to take a step backwards, but quickly switched decisions. She raised her chin and pushed out her jaw defiantly, attempting to stand her ground against the marauding man in front of her. She held eye contact with him as the minutes ticked by. She felt all possible respect pivoted on this very encounter.

Yamcha watched as his girlfriend was practically engulfed by her evil house guest. He swallowed a thick gulp of air as he contemplated his decision. _She needs my help_, he thought meekly to himself. Throwing down his symbol of love, he marched towards the unlocked door and wrenching it open, he prepared himself to rescue his princess. "Leave her alone!" Yamcha shouted with a finger pointed towards the bullying man and taking long strides across the white, hard tile. His words were formidable as they formed in his throat, but as they passed through his lips, the words sounded dismally ineffectual.

Vegeta barely acknowledged the weaker man's presence. He only smiled victoriously at the blue haired woman with whom he had locked eyes. Bulma also refused to break her eye contact, and harshly told her boyfriend, "I don't need your help."

Yamcha felt completely dejected. Her response knocked the wind from his body, but he still continued towards her. He then grabbed her arm just below her shoulder and hauled her away from the man. "Bulma," he half-whinned, half-ordered as he looked down at Bulma pleadingly, "he's dangerous." He then looked at the man responsible for his death. Fear began to quake through his body as he remembered how lonely death had been.

As soon as the woman was yanked from his presence, Vegeta felt his amusement switch to an escalating rage. All his anger was directed at the weakling who had interrupted his mental sparring. He felt a growl begin to rumble deep within his chest; his entertainment had been stolen by the pathetic man before him. The prince began to snarl his lip and tighten his body in preparation to spring on the idiot who disrupted his fun.

Bulma twisted her arm from her boyfriend's hand easily and snapped her eyes back to the alien. As she watched his facial expression, she noticed for the first time the minute changes occurring within their onyx depths. His eyes changed from something that resembled satisfaction to annoyance then to be replaced with fury. The woman was mesmerized by her realization. What she thought to be an empty blackness actually contained nearly all of Vegeta's passion. She took shallow, quick breaths as she stared piercingly into his angry eyes. All she could see were his exhilarating, coal-like eyes, and all she could hear was her quickened breathing. Her lips felt cold and dry, so she allowed her tongue to slowly ride over her bottom lip. She noticed his dark pupils flicker momentary to her lips and then back to her boyfriend. An intense feeling of magnetism started in her knees and invigoratingly rushed through her entire body. Only to be followed by shame creeping across her skin like invisible spiders. She stepped forward as said, "Come on Yamcha." She reached for Yamcha's arm and attempted to pull him towards an exit, but he shrugged her forcibly away. The woman was barely paying attention to her boyfriend and felt herself soaring uncontrollably towards the hard floor. Bracing her fall, she landed with an "umph" on the tile and sucked in a rapid breath between her clenched teeth.

As Yamcha turned his head towards the tumbling woman, Vegeta took the opportunity to leap at the distracted man and ram his elbow into the corner of his neck. Yamcha immediately saw blackness and slumped to the floor like a ragdoll. His head hit the tile with a sickening crack and lulled to the side dramatically.

"Vegeta," Bulma screeched hysterically as she saw her boyfriend fall to the floor. She immediately ran to the fallen man and tenderly touched his face. He was still breathing, but obviously unconscious. Looking up crossly at the proud Saiyan, she said, "You didn't have to do that!" She then focused her attention back to her injured boyfriend and began to lightly stroke his thick black hair.

Vegeta watched the nauseatingly tender display before him and thought to himself, _pathetic_. He then realized the moment as a victory and announced, "I expect those training tools shortly, woman." Turning quickly towards the door, he single mindedly set his path towards his gravity room for another bout of intense training.

~~~ Present Day ~~~

Vegeta watched as the different emotions transfigured across the woman's face. He tried to comprehend what the woman could be thinking, but found himself at a complete loss. _Sentimental crap most likely_, he thought to himself. "You know exactly what I want, Human." He practically spat out the last word as if it were an affliction.

Bulma immediately felt exposed and helpless. She had no means of defending herself or her people. Attempting to reclaim a strong voice she said, "Why would I help a Saiyan?" The question was delivered with less venom and more inquisitiveness than she would have liked. She meditatively took a breath of air and held it. She concentrated on her full lungs and stillness of body while staring directly into the man's deep but emotionless eyes. _How could I have ever_…she found herself thinking, before she reeled herself back into concentrating on her breathing. She alarmingly watched as he gracefully stood from his seat and stalked towards her. Uncontrollably, she stepped backwards until with a jolt she hit a wall. Slightly turning her head towards the offending object, she cursed the small room and immediately found herself ensnared by the prince.

He placed each hand on either side of the woman's frightened face and softly yet harshly said, "You have no choice, weakling." He could smell fear rolling off of her in tremendous waves and relished the sensation it invoked in his body. On Earth, she rarely showed him proper respect, but here and now she would. "You will give me my gravity room, or I may have to ask your father." He enunciated the word _father_ hoping to invoke terror within the blue haired beauty. Her response did not disappoint.

She felt unable to stand and braced herself against the wall. An irrepressible shudder convulsed through her body, and she felt irredeemable shame from her weakness. "What have you done to him!" She could no longer control the volume of her voice but still continued, "Your business is with me, you barbarian."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her new name for him and mockingly repeated, "Barbarian, eh?" He chuckled deeply at her rendition of his nature, but felt a slight satisfaction that she no longer saw him as a tame defender of Earth. "I've done nothing." He pushed himself closer to her invigorating smell and added, "not yet." He watched her expression closely and could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. One thing he could always count on was her ability to think herself out of a situation. He brought his mouth directly next to her ear and looked down at the delicate curve of her neck. "But," he started, barely containing the urge to scrap his teeth against her supple white skin, before huskily continuing, "If you come with me and build me my room…"

His hot breath blanketed her skin as if an electric discharge were shooting across her nerves. She shivered and raked a breath into her lungs. Chokingly she finished his sentence, "you'll protect and give freedom to earthlings." As she finished his statement, she looked up and peered searchingly into his amused eyes. She watched as satisfaction once again crept into the bottomless pits and a momentary smile flashed across his lips. She took a deep breath and looked down to the floor. She had sold herself to the devil, just as she promised she wouldn't.


	6. Wrists of Fury

Thank you for the reviews! I love to hear what you guys think. Feel free to tell me where I can improve. I have tried to make this chapter longer, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

Wrists of Fury

He felt his skin burning with the intense stares of the town's inhabitants. Smirking viscously at the weak humans, he followed the woman through the dusty street. Unease wafted off of her and merely deepened Vegeta's sense of dominance. He watched as she stiffly forced her body to display confidence. As her feet hit the ground roughly and mechanically, he could hear each breath being forced from her lips. He allowed his eyes to once again drift down her lean frame and chuckled silently at her attire. Her smell intermingled with his lingering scent on the clothes that she wore. It reminded him of pleasurable and shameful experiences, and he shook his head as the memories raced towards the forefront of his mind. Transferring his focus back to the fearful Humans, he heard disjointed whispers and saw panicked expression as they recognized the dangerous Saiyan trailing behind their heroine Bulma.

The pair approached a large peach colored building with the words Town Hall written above the door. Bulma pushed the door open and looked back at the stoic man behind her. "I expect you to behave." She attempted to order the erratic man's into compliance, but had bleak expectations. He merely stared back at her and slightly narrowed his eyes. She could interpret eagerness and amusement from his nearly blank expression. Confrontation was always something he looked forward to in the past. Turning back to the doorway she walked in expecting a catastrophe.

Once retrieving her radio from her dismembered bike, she had managed to avert some destruction by requesting that only Krillin and Yamcha be present, as they were the managers of the colony. But upon seeing Yamcha, she decided that she could have taken one more variable out of this equation. He looked worried, angry and scared. She had not seen him in months and although they were no longer romantically involved, she knew he still cared for her deeply. The scarred man immediately stepped forward and in a concerned voice asked, "Bulma, are you okay?"

She scoffed lightly at the question and nodded her head yes. But before she could verbally respond, Vegeta's dry and demanding voice sliced through the air. "She is no longer your concern, weakling." It had been years since he had seen the pathetic male, and yet he still felt a familiar uncontrollable hatred course through him. Vegeta took a step forward and blocked Yamcha's access to what he now considered his possession. He then barked, "Just get this over with."

Bulma sharply glared at the back of Vegeta's head, stepped out of his shadow and retorted, "He can be concerned about me, you jerk." With that said, she walked towards Yamcha and gave him a welcoming and comforting hug. She ignored the barely audible growl emitting from Vegeta and softly told Yamcha, "Everything's gonna by alright." She reassuringly squeezed his muscular arm and allowed a slight smile to grace her lips. The smile never reached her eyes. Yamcha looked at his feet shamefully as he realized he should be the one comforting Bulma, not vice versa. Bulma switched her focus to Krillin asking him, "Do you have the treaty drawn up?"

After the words were delivered her brain began to spin with conflicting thoughts. Bulma had told her father she would never compromise. Assisting the Saiyans would be helping the lesser of evils, but she knew Vegeta would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. The absolute truth echoes in her head, _He would destroy us in a second; this treaty means nothing_. But for her own sake she still felt obligated to proceed.

Krillin pulled out a thick sheet of paper and opened his mouth to give confirmation, but was cut off by the mocking voice of Vegeta. "That ridiculous paper means nothing to me woman," he bared his teeth at the bald man and continued, "Just get your crap so we can leave this mudball." He could not believe he had allowed her to convince him to take part in this charade. Disappointed in his lack of resolve, he marched to Bulma's side and whipped her away from Yamcha to face him. He stared into her conflicted eyes and curtly expressed his impatience by saying, "We will be departing shortly."

Irritably she whipped her head around and her blue hair lightly trailed over the man's shoulder before falling once again over her own shoulders. He took a step back to restrict the contact and glared offensively at the silky curls. Bulma had intended to retort the man's comment but found herself staring behind him.

Bardock crossed him arms over his armored chest as he watched his Prince tentatively step away from the small women in front of him. He did not have to ask; he knew this was the infamous Bulma. He narrowed his eyes at the situation before him and began to understand the stronger man's strange obsession with humans. The blue haired mystery locked eyes with Bardock, and he was struck by their intensity. He walked slowly towards the small group waiting for Vegeta to acknowledge his presence.

Vegeta cursed himself for not realizing the other Saiyan's presence. _She's a distraction_, he thought to himself. He felt his body began to tense as he turned his head minutely. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Bardock step towards them to stop a few feet from behind him. He then saw Bulma puff up in anger and confusion.

_Goku?_ Bulma wheeled at the recognition but she stopped herself. _No, it can't be. The Ice-jins have him_. An intense amount of sadness enveloped her, and her fury redoubled towards the Prince and his lacky. She cleared her head and glared directly into Bardock's cold eyes forcibly asking, "Another Saiyan? And who might you be." She arched an eyebrow at Vegeta's subject with an odd mixture of inquisitiveness and frustration.

Bardock replied blankly, "Bardock." Bulma expression did not seem satiated so he continued, "And you must be Bulma." She took a sharp breath in and snapped her eyes to Vegeta. At this opportunity, Bardock addressed the Prince, "Congratulations, Sire."

Vegeta growled at the mocking tone of Bardock's voice. And Grabbing Bulma's wrist, he began to tug her towards the exit. She resisted fervently, but to no avail. She pulled and twisted her arm attempting to break the ironclad grip he had on her, all the while shouting, "Let me go… I can walk by myself..Saiyan pig." Vegeta ignored her comments and kept his face completely void of emotion. Upon reaching the doors, he turned back to Bardock and in a commanding voice he began, "This planet now has protected status." Bardock eyes widened and he opened his mouth to rebuke, but remembering the last time he voiced his concern he complied by closing it again. "Take care of it," Vegeta ended the order decisively.

Vegeta forced open the doors, lurched Bulma towards him and wrapping his thick arm around her hips, he bursted into the air with a cloud of dust. The sudden change in momentum forced Bulma's head into his chest. Her vision blurred, and she felt her head go limp before dazing into oblivion.

* * *

The woman lay haphazardly on top of a large bed. The sheets were meticulously folded and tucked as if someone's life depended on its perfection. Her body was positioned face down like she had exhaustedly fallen onto the bed with little to no care. One of her arms lay beneath her body and the other was sprawled out to her side. Her legs began to shift as she drew on knee up the bed closer to her frame. She moaned lightly and furred her eyebrows together. When Bulma opened her eyes, she recognized nothing around her. She turned over in the bed and drew her legs into an Indian style sitting position. The expansive room was bare of any decorations and housed merely the bed and three doors. She bit her lip and forced her body to a standing position. She quickly contemplated her situation, _I must be on Vegeta's ship already_. And then wondering to herself she spoke out loud, "How long have I been out?"

Looking down at her right wrist, she noticed a dark black bruise surrounded by a sickly yellow color. She swiveled it up and down and acknowledged, "Well it's not broken." She lightly drew her left index figure over the injury and grimaced at its sensitivity. She turned her hand over and examined the underside of her wrist. The bruise was smaller, but deeper. She could distinguish the outline of three fingers prints on her skin and cursed the Saiyan's violence. But, this was not the first time she had directly been exposed to his irredeemable tendency.

* * *

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

She sat in an uncomfortable chair with her head leaned against her hand reading the latest edition of _Science Today_. Her boyfriend lay next to her, with his head wrapped in white gauze, peacefully sleeping. She glanced towards the injured man and thought back to his encounter with her houseguest. _If he had only listened to me_, she thought to herself. This experience added to her doubt about Yamcha's confidence in her. Bulma knew she could deal with the Saiyan, but her own boyfriend did not share that assurance in her abilities. As she mused over her relationship, the man's eyes slowly opened. Upon seeing Bulma, he immediately smiled and with a scratchy voice said, "Hey."

Bulma looked at the man and unable to forget her annoyance, she said, "Hey yourself," in a haughty tone. Shifting her eyes to his injured head, she felt little pity for his situation. Allowing the thought to mull for a second, she questioned, "What were you thinking. You know Vegeta doesn't like you."

Yamcha looked as if he were being betrayed and emotionally responded, "I was saving you."

Bulma was even further annoyed by his answer and retorted, "I don't need to be saved Yamcha." She felt like a petulant child as she stomped her foot down in aggravation. Her boyfriend's face looked unconvinced, so she continued, "I am perfectly capable of handling him." As the words left her lips, she felt a small about of doubt raise within her. But she crushed the idea like a helpless ant and stared defiantly into his eyes.

Her boyfriend scoffed. "He's dangerous, Bulma." Her face deepened into a stubborn expression, but he still felt it necessary to warn her. "You haven't seen him fight. The guy's a lunatic. Every step he takes is tactical."

"He just wants to train…" Bulma began but Yamcha continued over her answer.

"I don't know why he's snooping around you, but you can be sure he's up to no good." For the first time Yamcha recognized the jealousy within him. The last time they were together had been the latest drop in that bucket of jealousy. When Bulma had gone downstairs to check the commotion in the kitchen, Yamcha knew Vegeta was the culprit. She had gone down barely dressed and came back to bed flustered. He hated the memory and continued the debate with additional fuel, "Don't think I don't notice you two."

Bulma looked at him shocked and yelled, "What!" It was final; the man was a complete idiot. "Yamcha this is ridiculous, I'm leaving." She stood up to leave, but Yamcha got one more line in before she left.

"He's just using you."

* * *

~~~ Present Day ~~~

She laughed dejectedly at the memory. Yamcha had been right all along; He had noticed something devious in Vegeta's behavior towards Bulma. _Was it all so transparent?_ Back then she had walked into his trap willingly. _Well, at least I'm forced to help him this time_, she thought to herself in placation.

Remembering her situation, the woman walked towards to closest door and looked at the panel to the right of the frame. She lightly touched the surface and it lit up to display three options. The words were written in characters she had never seen before and she thought to herself, _Great the ships speaks some weird language_. She pressed the button nearest the door, the panel lit up green and the door swooshed up. She peered through the door way into the darkness and took a small step into the room. Lights immediately flickered on and illuminated a massive bathroom with an attached closet. _Not bad_, she thought to herself and stepped back out of the room. The door remained open, so she pressed to same button only to receive a quick flash of red. Then trying the middle button, the door slammed shut and she took a frightened stop back. "I could have been killed!" she exclaimed to herself.

She then eyed the next door, brought herself to it and pressed the right most virtual button. The panel flashed red and returned to her three unintelligible options. She narrowed her eyes in frustration and then pressed the middle button only to receive the same flash of red. She then pressed the left most button and an array of small button filled the screen. _Must be a code_, she acknowledged to herself. Eyeing the array of at least twenty buttons, she continued, "a complicated code."

Admitting temporary defeat, she approached the last door and satisfying smiled as she discovered it to be unlocked. As the lights flashed on she noticed the adjoining room was at least three times the size of the bedroom and completely empty. It had one door at the far side of the room. She entered the shockingly white room and was amazed to see the height of the room. The ceiling towered at least twice the height as the previous room. She made her way to the opposite door and her footsteps bounced between the walls with an eerily discomforting sound. She pressed the panel next to the door and it flashed red. She cursed at the realization that she was trapped.

Hearing a swooshing noise behind her, she turned and saw the doorway still open. She swiftly jogged back to the bedroom and saw a small teenage girl in the room. Her skin was an aqua blue, her frame was light and her eyes were stunningly yellow as was her hair. She was holding a silver try with an assortment of food. "Good morning, Madam." He voice was squeaky and scared and she averted her eyes as she spoke.

Bulma shifted at being called _Madam_ and bitingly said, "don't call me that." She noticed the girl hunch her shoulders together in fear.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Bulma smiled and as sweetly as possible said, "You can call me Bulma. And you are…" She trailed off as she took in the girl's appearance more closely. She had fading bruises on her arms and neck and a recently busted lip. The young blue girl looked completely broken both emotionally and physically. "Here come sit down." Bulma gestured to a spot on the bed and the girl obeyed mechanically. Sitting next to the girl, she grabbed the tray and set it down in the middle of the bed. "What's your name."

The frightened girl squeaked, "Mia." She lifted her eyes to Bulma's face and quickly returned her stare to the floor.

Bulma decided to start slow and easy before she grilled the girl for information. "Okay Mia, I have a few questions, is that alright?" Mia nodded with her eyes still glued to the floor. "Is this a Saiyan ship?" The girl nodded her head, so Bulma continued. "Is this Vegeta's ship?" Mia sucked in a quick breath and looked at the older woman with a shocked expression before nodding a quick yes. Bulma smiled and lightly placed her hand on top on the girls, ignoring the small jump it produced. "Are you a slave, Mia?" Mia maintained eye contact and nodded her head again. "And what is your job?"

Mia took a shaky breath and answered, "To do what I'm told, Ms. Bulma." She felt fear towards everyone on the ship, but was confused about whether she should fear this woman. She had learned in her short time on the ship that anyone that called his highness by name was very dangerous.

Bulma shook her head at the answer. _Poor girl._ The blue haired women knew she would need assistance and privacy on the ship if she wished to continue aiding her race. She felt a little guilty about questioning the scared girl, but she had to know her situation. She watched as confusion ran across her blue face and her skinny shoulders shook in fear. "That's okay. Thank you for the food." Mia quickly got up, punched a few keys on the keypad and exited the room.

Bulma meticulously watched her enter the code and immediately sprang towards the keypad. She deftly punched in the same ten digit code and prepared to celebrate in victory. The pad flashed red and Bulma immediately slouched in defeat. Running her hands through her hair she slide down the closed door and cursed her predicament. She then brought one hand in front of her face and slide her oily fingers together. "I need a bath," she admitted outloud.

After undressing and battling a few minutes with the water control system for the shower, she finally began to relax underneath the wonderfully hot water. She slowly traced her bruised wrist again and as the water trickled down her hair, her memory transferred to the past once again.

* * *

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

In a frenzy, she stormed out of the hospital wing and directly into her bedroom. _What I need is a nice relaxing man-free dip in the pool_. She took off her shoes one by one and threw them against the far wall of her bedroom. She practically ripped off her clothes and dragged on a small red bathing suit. She looked at her reflection and moving her hair to uncover her chest, she thought to herself, _You're still a hottie_. Winking at her likeness, she grabbed a towel and trotted to the pool.

The sun gleamed off the surface of the still water in a blinding display. Bulma closed her eyes, reached her hands towards the sky and bending her knees, she nimbly dove into the water. She swam underwater to the other end of the pool and emerged breathlessly. Gulping for air, she leaned her head back slicking her hair flat against the back of her head. She moaned in relaxation and opened her eyes. Unfortunately, rather than a peaceful blue sky above her, she saw an irritated Saiyan.

"Where are my droids, woman." It was phrased like a question, but Bulma knew better, this was an order. She scoffed at him and rather than replying, she dived back into the cool water. He watched as she slid across the bottom of the pool. Her thin limbs sprawling away from her body only to be raked back in to propel herself through the glistening water. He bent his knees slightly and jumped effortlessly to her destination. As she came back to the surface, he laughed smugly at her attempt to run from him.

Emerging once again from the ice cold water, Bulma huffed in frustration as the cocky man materialized before her. Ignoring him, she ran her hands through her silky floating hair and softly replied, "Like I would help you after yesterday." Then pushing herself against the pool wall, she floated on her back to glide away from the edge where the Saiyan stood. She could barely hear the man's irritated response through the water, but she got the gist nonetheless. In a sing-song voice she said, "I can't hear you." Closing her eyes, she drifted slowly on top of the water attempting to forget her demanding houseguest.

He smirked at the display she was unintentionally giving him. His eyes traced down from her condescending smirk to her barely covered breasts. They floated on the water, flaunting her supple curves in a manner the Prince could not disregard. The cold water had forced them to a delicious firmness and her nipples exerted themselves against the thin red clothe which contained them. He had begun to enjoy the foul smelling water and its showcasing ability. He floated to a position barely above the top of the water and coasted towards the unsuspecting woman. He watched her as she cycled her arms from perpendicularly beside her to a parallel position above her head. Reaching down he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and carefully pulled her body slightly out of the water attempting to be mindful of her disparaging weakness.

She thrashed her legs violently, splashing water all over the entertained man. He pulled her a little higher so the water level rested just below her crotch. "Let me go!" She screamed as she ineffectively attempted to break his grip. He chuckled at her predicament, and she stopped struggling to give the man her best death glare. "You've proved your point … Neanderthal," she said cocking her head to the side dejectedly. He looked at her frustrated face, and his eyes inadvertently snapped to her dramatically rising chest. As she took deep breaths, her hardly enclosed breasts mounded out of the wet fabric. His eyes lingered for barely a second before returning his gaze to her annoyed eyes. Grinning even more viciously, he pulled her slack body up so they were eyelevel. She acidly responded, "Pig!

He did not know what a Neanderthal was, but he figured it was unflattering. In a guttural voice, he suggested, "Give me training enhancements." Flashing his eyes to her pouting lips he continued, "and I'll let you go." He lingered on her supple bottom lip, traced his burning gaze along her jaw line and pulled her wet body flat against his. He relished the feeling of her soft body and lost focus as he tried to remember the last time he had been pleasured properly.

Bulma's breath caught in her throat when the passion in his eyes shifted. For the first time since she had met the powerful man, he no longer seemed focused on training. She took a ragged breath and tried to increase the gap between them by pushing her shoulder forward. At this movement, his eyes traced down her neck to rest on the delicate curve of her shoulder. She could practically feel every muscle in his body tensing against her, and she felt her devious body began to respond to his proximity. The heat of his body in combination with his innate intensity forced a shiver to erupt up her spine. He snickered darkly at her response and took a deep breath. He could barely discern her delicious scent from the chemicals of the water, but a slight purr-like rumble began to form in his chest.

Bulma's skin was tingling in excitement and shame. This man was practically forcing her and she was reveling in his attention. She struggled lightly in her humiliation, but he merely took his other arm and firmly gripped her waist. His palm was warm against her exposed skin, and he slowly circled his thumb over her hipbone. This contact started a ripple of feelings which overwhelmed her body. "Vegeta," she whined under her breath. She was attempting to say his name pleadingly, but once released, it sounded like a sigh of pleasure. He brought his mouth to the side of her face and responded with a barely audible grunt.

A high pitched voice cut through the air in surprise, "Oh my." Before Bulma could confirm that the voice belonged to her mother, she felt herself plummeting back towards the water. With an ungraceful splash and a mouthful of water, Bulma struggled back to the surface. Pulling herself out of the pool, she looked around and only found her mother. The blonde was standing near the kitchen door; one hand holding a tray with her famous alcoholic lemonade and the other hand held over her smile. Bulma trudged towards her mother, grabbed one of the drinks and downed it in one gulp. Reaching for the second glass, she barely heard her mother say, "If I were only twenty years younger."


	7. Familiar Comforts

Well fans, I am very disappointed. No reviews yet for the previous chapter! C'est la vie, I will continue to write…alone and unacknowledged.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own any of them.

Familiar Comforts

~~~ Present Day ~~~

Emerging from the shower steam enveloped the room, and she stood dripping wet cursing her lack of preparation. Wrapping her arms around her body, she began opening cabinets. Eventually she found a stack of white towels and sighed in relief. Once drying herself, she roughly rubbed her wet hair with the towel, wrapped it around her body and tucked a corner in itself.

Wondering out of the room she glanced at the tray of food the young girl had brought her. In between two dome-covered plates sat a palm-sized, white box. Bulma looked suspiciously at the small item, picked it up and opened the container. An immediate smile grew on her face as she recognized multiple rows of neatly labeled capsules. She removed the small capsule labeled clothes, threw it to the ground and with a poof, a large chest of draws appeared where there was previously nothing. She opened the draws and thanked the gods for her own attire.

She noted that a majority of the capsules were labeled with her lab equipment and she sighed deciding to prepare the neighboring room for her research. She expected to barely see the Saiyan while working on his precious room. He would most likely respond to their recent close physical encounter the same way he had on Earth: with denial. And she had no complaints.

* * *

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

She woke to the soft chirping of morning birds and grimaced at the noise. Rolling to her side, she heard the clinking of glasses and shot up to a sitting position in surprise. The painful rushing which enveloped her head forced her back into a prone position. She noted her situation: stretched across a patio lounge chair, next to the pool and still clothed in her small red bathing suit. "Shit," she said out loud. She looked to her side to find a change of clothes lying in the chair next to her. _Thanks mom_, she said to herself. She pulled the tight fitting cutoff shorts over her bathing suit and pulled a tube top over her tangled hair. Attempting to manage her hair with her fingers, she gave up and put her head in her hands.

Yesterday, she drank her mom's 'special' lemonade so fast that she passed out on the spot from emotional exhaustion. Managing with her unfriendly yet enticingly perilous guest was getting harder by the day. Each encounter was becoming more intense than the previous one, and she harbored an unhealthy anticipation for their next rendezvous. She sat looking at the barely lit horizon and thought to herself, _This time in the morning is so peaceful_. After a few minutes of serene contemplation, she realized her mouth felt absolutely parched and slowly getting up, she trudged her way to the kitchen.

Once entering the still dark kitchen, she flipped on the light and groaned at the piercing flash of brightness. Once her eyes adjusted, her eyes fell on her feasting houseguest. _Great_, she lamented her rotten luck. Swallowing her pride, she said, "Morning." Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, she filled it with water and gulped down the delicious liquid. She looked back to the silent man. He stared at an empty spot in front of him and seemed to be unaware of her presence. His arms lay across the table, his fists clenched. She noted the tension which seemed to envelope his entire body. His face was blank, eyes completely void of the agitated emotions which radiated off of his body. This was not exactly what she had predicted from the usually overconfident man. _Maybe he's shy after… no, don't be a fool he doesn't even know what that word is_, she thought to herself as she grabbed an apple, rinsed it and sat down in front of the Saiyan. Seeming to accept that she would remain in the room, Vegeta grabbed a fork roughly and made significant progress diminishing his meal. Bulma eyebrows creased together in confusion, she had expected an arrogant remark about the obvious desire she had shown him or another demand to build more training equipment. The tense silence that suffocated the room made Bulma feel on edge and taking a deep breath, she said, "About yesterday…"

Vegeta stood immediately causing his chair to jettison into the wall behind him with a head splitting crack. Bulma flinched in response to the loud noise and gawked open-mouthed at the powerful man before her. With his jaw clenched in irritation, he rounded the table. Not knowing what to expect from the erratic man, she turned in her chair to follow his movements. Still refusing to acknowledge her presence, he walked decisively from the room and left an irritated Bulma to eat her apple alone. She looked at his unfinished food and thought to herself, _I guess I found a way to get rid of him_. She ironically laughed to herself, emptied his plate in the trash and went to her room to get some real rest.

Underneath the warmth of her comforter, she thought about the previous day's events. _He was so_ …. She put a hand around her wrist and was surprised that he had not hurt her. He had made her feel amazing, like a school girl with a crush. She bit her lip in confusion. How a man like Vegeta caused her body to react so violently was beyond her. She thought about how Yamcha made her feel and the difference was momentous. _It's just the danger factor_. She had always liked the bad boy, but Vegeta was no bad boy, he was a murdering psychopath. She needed to take a break; her overworked brain must be the root of the attraction she felt. If he was going to ignore her, than she could just forget what had happened. With these promising thoughts, she drifted into a must needed sleep.

* * *

Vegeta punched the air remembering his own actions as he crushed the invisible enemy. _Weak_. He flipped in the air and landed in his exact previous location. Flexing his arms by his side, he summoned his power and felt the electric feeling course through his body. He phased out of vision, reappeared five feet to the left and once again assaulted the invisible foe. He needed the droids to further his training, but did not want to face the woman. _Pathetic_. He felt shamed by his softness and the anger it caused fueled a barrage of kicks and punches. He would ask her father.

Exiting his training room, he wiped his sweat with a towel, located the woman's ki in her bedroom and stalked towards the old man's laboratory. Upon entering the man's presence, he curled his lip at the purple haired man's weakness. He was completely unaware of his entry into the room. He could easily wipe humans off the face of this pitifully frail planet. He gruffly spoke, "Old man."

Dr. Briefs jumped and peered at their houseguest through his thick spectacles. "Ah, hello young man," he said in response while grabbing a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it routinely. He smiled at the Saiyan and asked, "How can I help you?"

Vegeta sneered as the disgustingly pungent odor drifted towards him. These humans did not seem to realize the type of man he was, and this fact angered him any further. He pushed aside his anger and preceded with his purpose, "I need additional training tools." He watched as the old man looked at him blankly.

Dr. Briefs wondered momentarily why the young man was asking him when his daughter was in charge of that project. He shook his head and said, "Well, you're Bulma's territory. You'll have to ask her."

Vegeta tensed at the man's response. _Territory_, he repeated to himself angrily. "I don't care," he felt himself fuming internally, "just build them, you feeble twit." Grabbing the man by his loose lab jacket, he continued, "If you don't want to die, you'll get me those droids."

Bulma's father held up his hands in defense and swallowed hard. He gained a new respect for his daughter's strength as he thought, _How does she deal with this?_ He shakily responded to Vegeta's threat with a disjointed, "Okay." Once released, he stared fearfully at the younger man, straightened his coat and said, "I'll get them made for you."

Vegeta, satisfied by his victory, exited the room leaving a bewildered man in his wake. Once the old man recovered from the episode, he began his search for his daughter.

* * *

Flipping the plastic covered up, she slammed her hand against the red button. The droning background noise whirled to silence, and the once locked door swooshed open. She stormed into the room in a blind fury. The occupant stood ten feet from the entrance with sweat pouring down his bare chest. He was breathing heavily and had a scowl on his face that would scare the average person away from his domain. Bulma continued on her path unscathed and marching towards the room's inhabitant, she poked the man's chest before beginning her screaming match. "How dare you! Never threaten my father! I can't believe I invited you here. You're such an asshole. You have no idea how to be appreciative! You should have stayed dead!"

With that final statement, Vegeta finally reacted to her intrusion. Grabbing her roughly around the neck and lifted her onto the tips of her toes. Keeping her body at a safe distance, he constricted her vocal cord and snarled into her face, "Just do your job, woman." Bulma struggled from his grip in fury. She began attempting to pry at his grip from around her slender neck. He released her unceremoniously, and she collapsed to the ground gasping for air.

After a short burst of coughing, she roughly said, "I will never respond to threats, Vegeta. That's not how I work." She sat on her knees, her hands placed on the floor in front of her and glared daggers at the man before her.

His narrowed his eyes at the stubborn woman and leaning down to her level, he asked mockingly, "then what do you respond to?"

She glared at him, pulled herself to an upright position and said, "Respect." Vegeta laughed wickedly, and Bulma was shocked by how menacing it sounded. She knew in theory what he was before he arrived on Earth: a mercenary, but before now she had never been able to make a direct connection. Earth was not a place for him to start over, only a tool to attain Super Saiyan status. She looked up at the man. He looked like he was truly enjoying domineering over her. _I can't believe I thought he was attractive yesterday! _She looked back down at her wrists that he had held so carefully and looking back up at him though her thick eyelashes, she begrudgingly made him an offer, "You have to promise to not hurt or threaten my family." She took a deep breath after her statement and waited for his condescending reply.

Vegeta snapped to her attentively and contemplated the bargain. Even if the woman did manage to goad him constantly, he could control himself at the right price. In a nonchalant voice he questioned, "What will I get in return?"

"Training tools." She watched as she saw a small amount of satisfaction creep into his eyes. He had terrified her with force and manipulated her with familial love. She cursed the cocky Saiyan underneath her breath. He had gotten his way, just like a spoiled Prince. She noted the superior look draping over his face, so she continued, "but only within reason, I will not be your slave."

Vegeta laughed jeeringly, grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into a standing position. "Fine, woman." He looked into her wide, blue eyes and added, "No threats or pain. Now get out." He jerked his head towards the open door and turned around walking to the control panel. He listened to her footsteps as she left the room and turned his head slightly to see her disappear out the door. She had spunk, he had to admit that fact. He would have enjoyed her as his slave.

* * *

Once she entered the safety of her room, the tears began to fall uncontrollably. Her emotions somersaulted between anger and helplessness. She wondered how she would deal with her predicament and in an overwhelming sense of defeat, she made her way to a familiar comfort.

Entering the antiseptic smelling room, she saw Yamcha leaning against the back of his bed reading the newest edition of _The Dugout_. She smiled at his predictability and softly said, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

He looked up, plastered an energetic smile on his face and patted the spot next to him. "It's alright, babe." She practically dove under the covers with him and wrapping her hand around his waist, she smothered her face into his welcoming chest. His heartbeat lulled her into comfort and she felt ashamed by her actions from the day before. He may not be a rollercoaster of excitement, but he was a good man.

* * *

~~~ Present Day ~~~

He sat on his throne-like chair relishing the idea that he had finally captured her. Battling within him was the question of whether he had greater anticipation for the gravity room or the woman herself. He had nearly forgotten how stimulating she could be, and she was finally his. His what, he had yet to define. Staring blankly at the shaking girl before him, he dismissed the other occupants of the room.

He started with barely an acknowledgement towards the girl, "You will report all activities directly to me." He glared at her bright yellow eyes. Her fear was disgusting to him and pushing himself from a sitting position, he walked closer to the shaking girl. Her blue flesh glistened with sweat. He grabbed her chin, forced eye contact and continued, "Is that understood." She could barely formulate a coherent thought much less respond verbally, but Mia knew she had to respond. She nodded her head yes and trembled as his hand lowered to wrap around her neck. He squeezed and continued, "You will gain her trust or I'll find another use for you." She practically lost all control of her legs, felt salty tears begin to trail down her face and nodded her head once again.


	8. Bellowing the Fire

Aw, shucks. Reviews! Thank you. I have tried to keep the characters in, well, character. Thank you for saying I have succeeded. Also, thank you for liking the spy addition. I hope I can make Mia a well rounded character. I would love further suggestions, so don't be shy!

Disclaimer: I suppose I do own Mia, but not anyone else.

Bellowing the Fire

~~~ Present Time ~~~

Mia had proved to be more helpful than she could have imagined. The girl put all her effort into arranging the heavy lab equipment, and Bulma felt a relationship develop with the younger girl during their laborious activities.

While they forced all of their weight against the last piece of machinery, a large glove box, Bulma continued with her story. "Yeah, I guess my first love turned out to be the wrong choice." Bulma grunted in effort and forced out her next sentence, "But, I was so young when I met him."

Mia listened to the woman's stories and felt both envious and intrigued. She had been a slave for as long as she could remember, and had never had the chance to fall in love. If Bulma was not so caring, it would have been easy for her to hate the blue haired woman. In the small voice that she had grown accustom to using she responded, "What did he look like?" She felt as if she was engulfed in a fantastical love story, and it helped in forgetting her predicament to hear about these far off peaceful places.

"Oh, he's tall and handsome. A body to die for! Well nothing compared to …" Bulma stopped herself, swallowed her sadistic thought and continued with his attributes. "But most of all, he's sweet." A sadness starting to form inside her as she thought, _but that wasn't enough_. Bulma stopped pushing against the ridiculously heavy object and looked down at her black boots. Shaking her head she said, "Let's take a break." Mia obliged and followed the woman to a pair of chairs across the room. Bulma grabbed a purple spiky fruit that she had recently discovered to be delicious and began to peel back its thick rind. She looked towards Mia and said, "Enough about me, tell me something about yourself."

Mia's blue face adopted a purplish hue in embarrassment and replied, "Oh no, there's nothing to tell." She put her arms up, palms facing the scientist trying to defer the attention away.

"Alright, but that's not gonna work forever." Bulma looked at the girl slightly disappointed, but tried to understand her reluctance. "I guess Yamcha just got boring. I would love a little boring now." Bulma chuckled under her breath. She had to admit that the Saiyan had brought exhilaration into her life, and it was addictive. She looked back down at her bruised wrist. It was a major oversight to underestimate his nature. But building the first two droids had been her first true irreversible mistake. She had submitted to his dominance, and built them entirely too quickly. It had been like blowing on a fire in an attempt to extinguish the flames.

* * *

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

Before Vegeta even entered the gravity room, he could immediately smell that the woman had been there. He narrowed his eyes and suspicions began to cloud his mind. _Did she augment the machine to seek revenge? _He found himself questioning. Then upon stepping through the threshold, his eyes met two four feet high battle droids. He smirked at her compliance and once engaging the increased gravity he pushed the switch at the center of the round devices. They immediately began to hover six feet above the ground and shot small laser blasts in random directions. Vegeta felt exhilaration course through his body and began his grueling exercises for the day.

* * *

Bulma woke to the noise of the shower and peeling back the covers, she placed her feet down on her soft bedroom carpet. She gave a satisfying sigh of relief and rejoiced at not having to work all day. She placed her weight on her feet and shuffled her way to the adjoining room. Upon entering the bathroom, she received an invitation. "What to join me, babe?" Bulma laughed in compliance and shrugging off her small tank top and shorts, she stepped into her expansive shower. Yamcha smiled at her goofily and dunked his head under the spray of water. The liquid trickled down his face and slithered past his muscular chest. Bulma reached forward and delicately followed the path of the hot fluid. His tan skin and chiseled abs made Bulma bit her lip in appreciation.

After working for two days straight, she was finally able to deliver the requested training tools to the Prince. She mentally scoffed at the idea of requested, looked back down at Yamcha's body and ran her hands over his broad shoulders and defined arms. Pulling her body against his, she reveled in the feeling as their skin contacted. As she drifted into a daze, she unknowingly found her mind drifting towards another man.

Yamcha was taller than the Saiyan, and she imagined his skin was softer. No matter how you looked at it, her houseguest looked hard and unpleasant. Begrudgingly she admitted the Saiyan's compact body was more intriguing. His muscles were not bulky like Yamcha's but lean and tight. His body was always coiled like a spring and this merely accentuated his sinewy body. When he walked around barely clothed, which was more often than not, Bulma could barely keep herself from staring. If she could pry her eyes off his body, she would be captivated by his intense and deep eyes. Sometimes she found herself lost in their complexity. But she knew it was not just his appearance that made the man attractive. He carried himself with such pride and his work ethic obviously spilled into every one of his actions. Yamcha lazy outlook on life was always a blaring default to the woman. On the other hand, Vegeta ate with neat diligence, his room was always tidy, and he was never caught unaware. _Well expect for that time at the pool_, Bulma snickered softly at the memory.

"What's up?" A soft voice interrupted her deceitful thoughts, and Bulma immediately blushed in response. She felt an intense feeling of shame engulf her. _How could I be thinking about that arrogant prick like that…again_, she reprimanded herself. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed the man lovingly. Running her hands through his thick hair, she attempted to banish all thoughts about the Saiyan Prince from her mind. _Yamcha can make me feel even better_, she thought convincingly. His large hands barely touched her rib cage before they roughly squeezed her large breasts. Bulma wished he would tease her more before he fondled her so overtly, but Yamcha had never been one for foreplay. She still delivered a moan hoping he would linger, but he immediately grabbed one of her legs and pulled it upwards for easier access. Bulma pivoted her hips away from him hoping to entice more caressing from the impatient man. Yamcha responded by saying, "Aw, come on. Don't play hard to get." His voice had a tinge of whine that almost instantaneously turned her off, but she granted him admission nonetheless.

* * *

Ten minutes of pleasure was more than the desert bandit could handle. Bulma had always been obscenely alluring to him. He looked down at her, kissed her forehead and said, "I'm gonna be late for try outs." He saw disappointment develop on her face and added, "I'll see you tonight." Giving her another kiss, he stepped out of the shower and left the heiress to finish her cleaning.

When she heard the shower door close, Bulma seeped down with the water to the floor of the shower. She refused to cry. She knew that would be admitting that their relationship was over. She ran her hands through the hair on her scalp and clenched the strands to the point of pain. She felt dirty, like she had used sex for something other than love. She had used it for comfort and companionship out of a selfish desire and had barely received satisfaction. When they were young it was exciting; she felt like she was teaching and taming the handsome man. But now, it merely felt routine and obligatory.

She squeezed her eyes shut and immersed her head into the hot water. The water collected on her lips and mouth then trickled down to the drain. She watched as the water swirled down into the depths of darkness. Her mother had always told her, "You can't choose who you love, sweetie." Bulma closed her mouth and gulped down some of the hot liquid. She believed her mom, but did that mean she also had no control when she fell out of love? Yamcha was endearing, but maybe that was not what she needed. Maybe she needed a break from all men, especially handsome, muscular ones. Deciding that she would distance herself from all desirable members of the opposite sex, she rose to a standing position and continued with the purpose of the shower.

* * *

~~~ Present Day ~~~

"Ms. Bulma," Mia quietly interrupted Bulma's thoughts. The blue, haired woman had looked lost for the first time since Mia had met her. She supposed she would eventually get the full story, but she also knew the Prince would not be satisfied with hearing about the woman's romantic musing. A bitter struggle was waged within her as she compulsively and quickly asked, "How long before we can start working on the machine?" She bit her bottom lip hard as guilt flooded her.

Bulma momentarily cocked her head at the girl, and then stared at the ceiling in contemplation. "I don't know," she said out loud mechanically as a small about of doubt crept up her spine. _That question sounds oddly familiar_, she thought to herself. She already felt attached to the girl and rationalized that the question must stem from a reciprocal attachment. So, Bulma bypassed her misgivings and continued, "I guess I can start with the plans tomorrow."

Mia nodded her head as shame washed over her. She had never had a friend; the slave life was a dog-eat-dog world. She felt that Bulma could be like a friend. Bulma was smart, funny and nice to her. _Maybe she already knows I'm reporting to him_, Mia tried to justify her actions. She gave the woman a small, sheepish smile and said, "I'll get your dinner, Ms. Bulma." Rising from her seat, she walked to the nearest door, punched in the code and walked out diligently.

Fear immediately bloomed and Mia felt her breath quicken as she walked through the narrow ship hallway. The corridors were always the most dangerous. She had thought Freiza's men were horrible to slaves, but they paled in comparison to the vicious Saiyans. She had already been attacked multiple times. The last time a brutish bald Saiyan had grabbed her by the neck and forced her into a dark corner. Tears began to form in her eyes as she remembered the traumatic event. He had slammed her face first into the wall, ripped off her clothing and proceeded to do what he called "entertaining himself." Afterwords, he left her naked, bleeding and slumped against the corner. He tossed a gold coin at her and mockingly said, "Now, that's a good girl." She swallowed hard at memory. Her fellow slaves had shown no compassion when she returned to her bunk; they merely left her alone to cry away her sorrows. _Bulma would show concern_, she thought to herself.

Mia began to quicken her pace towards her destination until her path was abruptly stopped by an older woman with graying hair and leathery skin. She looked down at the young girl in condescension and haughtily said, "His majesty requests your presence." The silver haired woman curled her lip in disgust, turned swiftly and added, "follow me."

The young blue girl recognized the woman's attire to represent a high ranking slave and obediently trailed behind her. She led her to an elevator and once they were inside, the woman entered a code and the elevator began its ascension to the top of the ship. The doors dinged open and the older lady motioned her forward. Mia stepped through the doorway and noticing that she was not being followed, she turned around to see the doors decisively shut. Panic began to crawl its way into her mind and she alarmingly turned around to face two large double doors. Taking a shaky breath, she inched her way towards the heavily embellished doors and lightly rapped on them.

A gruff response admitted her entrance and she hesitantly pushed on the doors open. A large, black walled room met her vision, and she scanned the room for its inhabitant. It appeared to be empty, but she knew it contained the most dangerous of men. She stepped forward and tried to absorb her surroundings. A large u-shaped couch sat to her right which surrounded a circular table. As she looked to her left, she was amazed to see the entire wall was made of glass and showcased a spectacular array of stars. Gapping at the vision, she realized that had been on this ship for over a year, and this was the first time she had seen space. _It's so peaceful_, she thought to herself.

"I assume you have something to tell me." The interruption surprised her so much that she emitted a small squeak in response. Turning around, she saw that the couch now housed the Prince. He looked indifferently at the girl, but his body betrayed his tension visibly. She instantly bowed towards him and tried to push down her dread. He harshly added, "get on with it."

"The…" she stammered out the words, but clenching her eyes shut she continued, "the lab is setup, she begins tomorrow." As she divulged her friend's activities, one thought ran through her mind, _traitor_. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at the Saiyan before her. He looked transfixed on an idea, lost in a moment, just as Bulma had earlier. Mia began to wonder at the nature of their relationship, but stopped herself and peered at the man once again. Now he was staring at the ground to his left, with a disdainful look on his face.

The small blue girl's noxious smell of fear, which at times was invigorating, only proved to be aggravating now. That was all the residents of his ship revealed to him except for one. The woman had shown him a multitude of moods, and he found it difficult to handle compared to his usual range of emotional intake. He had yet to see happy from her and at that thought, he recognized a trace of desire to see her smile. He denounced the idea mentally and attempted to banish the thought, but he was incapable of preventing the memory to surface.

* * *

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

He emerged from his gravity room pleased and exhausted. The little devices had added a new element to his training. The random firing kept him moving during his individual sparing. He looked down at his arms to see a multitude of thin scratches which the droids had produced. In the last hour, he had allowed too many hits and eventually decided to retrieve his dinner rather than continue his exercise. He could see the kitchen from his position and noting the bright light from within, he held high expectations of being served his dinner.

An annoying noise besieged him upon entering the house. It was what the woman had called music, but it seemed as if she had decided to add her own rendition on top of the existing song. Rounding the corner of the kitchen he saw a ludicrous sight. Bowls were everywhere and it seemed that a light cloud of flour was covering every surface. The kitchen table was covered with failed experiments of what he assumed was meant to be food. Fist sized black shapes that look as appealing as rocks and cylindrical brick like objects were scattered everywhere. The blue haired woman stood with her back to the entrance facing another attempt. She was swaying slightly to the music and wearing a tiny blue dress with an apron covering her most alluring features. She had a large wooden spoon in her hand which she was using to accent certain points in the song. Each flick would send tiny flecks of beige sludge about the room and unfortunately, one of these flecks landed on the tip of Vegeta's nose.

He growled in response and contemplated leaving the room in search of the fearsome mother. In response to the recognizable sound of an irritated Saiyan, she stopped singing, turned around and flashed him an absurdly cheerful smile. "Aw, Did I get you?" she said mockingly as she stepped forward. He noted her face was also harboring tiny flecks of baking materials and was once again reminded of the absurdity of this planet. She approached him, pulled up a piece of her apron and quickly wiped the small particle from his nose. He internally flinched at her proximity but refused to show that he was affected by her touch. She looked at his face and trying to contain a laugh within the palm of her hand said, "Oh, that didn't help at all."

Vegeta touched his nose and looked at his fingers to see a cement-like substance. "What the hell is this, woman," he questioned. He was starting to feel increasingly suspicious about the woman's cheerful mood.

He watched as she removed the hand from covering her smile and waving at him nonchalantly said, "Oh don't worry Prince, it's edible!" At her using his official title, he felt an electric force resound up his spine and tingle into every one of his extremities. He watched her lips formulate the word and savored the moment with intense satisfaction. It involuntarily calmed his suspicions and eased his body. He took one of his fingers and placed it into his mouth tasting the so called food. His lip curled convulsively, and he swallowed hard in an effort to rid his mouth of the taste. Bulma read him like a book, petulantly sucked in a quick breath threw her nose and said, "Whatever, it's probably tastes bad from your skin residue." She looked him over, lingered on his lower abdomen and shifted her eyes to the right quickly. He watched as a pinkish hue developed across her cheeks, and she sucked a little of her lower lip into her mouth.

When she started talking again, she had lost almost all of her previous confidence and refused to look at the man before her. "Right, well I'll get mom to cook you some dinner." Before he could respond, she had practically run out of the room leaving him in the foul den of her failed cooking experiments.


	9. A New Day, A New Challenge

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.

You are very patient. Thank you! It's great to hear that you are captivated. And yes, A Dark Vegeta is the best Vegeta. I would love to hear what you think about the current direction I am taking and any advice on my writing style.

* * *

**A New Day, A New Challenge**

~~~ Present Day ~~~

Emerging from his memories, Vegeta locked eyes with the delicate girl before him. She looked confused and out of place. He rose from his sitting position and strolled towards the now trembling girl. She legitimately feared him, but given the good intelligence she had brought him, he found it irrational to cower so visibly. He thought about his gravity room and basked in the thought of real training again. "That's good news," he said emotionlessly to the young girl. She looked up at him and gave him a half smile that still reeked of fear. "I expect you to deliver everyday at this time," he ordered and continued, "now get out."

She quickly ducked out of the room and left Vegeta alone with his thoughts. He knew that the decision to minimize contact with the human was for the best, but he still regretted it slightly. He yearned to lock eyes with that consuming fire which emanated from her blue orbs. He smirked at the idea and was tempted to pay her a visit, but was derailed by an obnoxious beeping from behind him. He turned around, glared at the desk and angrily stalked towards the cause of the noise. Looking at the display on the screen, he snarled in disgust, sat down and accepted the call.

An impassive face immediately flickered on the screen and in response, Vegeta's scowl became even more pronounced. The man sported Vegeta's trademark hair and wore a distinguished goatee. Raising his nose in the air and staring down at the younger Saiyan, he began, "Well son, your empire is getting bigger by the day. Soon you will even rival…"

Vegeta gruffly interrupted him, "Don't mock me, Old Man!" Vegeta's blood pressure rose at the sight of his father. With the restoration of Vegeta-sei, the Prince had thought he would finally feel complete. Instead he felt unsatisfied with the petty politics of his home planet. He wanted more than just one measly planet to rule and set out to strengthen and enhance his territories. He rarely visited Vegeta-sei and secretly knew it was because every time he saw the King's face, he was reminded of his betrayal. The man had sold his own son to buy an insignificant amount time for himself and had still failed at saving their race. _Are you much different_? Vegeta questioned in the back of his mind. He had turned on an entire planet for his own personal gain. He had even known the consequences that awaited Earth and callously had not cared. He pushed the treacherous thoughts away and blamed their appearance on his reunification with the woman. Growling in anger, he barked at his father, "What the hell do you want?"

"Ah, you've joined the conversation," the king said snidely. Then arching an eyebrow he continued, "I need the coordinates of your new acquisition, and you have disabled the beacon again." Before finishing his statement, he roughly smiled baring his teeth viciously. "Kindly enable the device, boy."

Vegeta placed his familiar mask of stoicism over his face and responded mechanically, "Of course, King." He spat out the last word like a rotten apple and slammed his fist on a button to end the call. The screen went blank, but Vegeta still stared at it loathingly. He begrudgingly still required his father's assistance having yet gained enough territorial possessions or strength to dispose of his race's threats. His mind reeled, as he was reminded of his ongoing obligation to his father. He stood up and felt his fists ball uncontrollably at his helplessness. _I just want freedom_, Vegeta thought in exasperation. He caught himself and snarled in disgust at his self pity. He grabbed a melon sized electrical device from the corner of his desk and marched towards the elevator. Vegeta would find a way; he always got what he wanted.

* * *

Bulma sat alone sketching design ideas for an indestructible facility. If it were to be onboard, they could not risk the gravity room blowing to pieces. She thought of the different properties the materiel would have to contain and tried to match them with what was available. _I need to go shopping_, Bulma laughed at the idea, but knew she needed multiple samples for diagnostic tests. Turning her chair around, she typed some commands into her computer. The screen showed their position and a list of relatively close planets. She saw the name Kiop and remembered collecting supplies there in the past. Selecting the name, she read its merchant list and decided that she had found her destination. _Now for the hard part_, she thought to herself. How would she get the request to him? And while pondering this question, the far door shot open with a beep and in stepped the man of her desire.

As if he knew what she needed, Vegeta walked through the door. He looked disheveled. Bulma was struck by the noticeable difference in his mental state. _He had looked so in control on Gia_, she thought to herself as he stalked towards her. He dropped a metal device in top of her blue prints with deliberate roughness. "Hey," Bulma screamed in response and lifted the object to pull her work out from underneath it. As she held heavy object, she quickly scanned its rudimentarily exposed circuit.

"It's a tracking beacon." Vegeta delivered each of his words with absolutely no emotion and refused to look directly at the tempting woman before him. "You will distort its signal to reflect the place of my choosing." With that said, he turned back to the door and attempted to make a hasty exit.

"Wait." Bulma rushed from her seat and reaching forward, she grabbed the retreating man's arm just below his bulging shoulder muscle. Her eyes were alarmingly drawn to her hand's position on his arm, but she felt compelled to maintain her tight grip. He whipped around violently and deeply growled at the contact. She barely heard the ferocious noise as she slowly drew her eyes to his. Vegeta was visibly frazzled. She had seen this type of behavior in the past. When the prince felt outmatched by her childhood friend, Goku, he entered into an uncontrollable state. Back then it had created pity and sympathy within her; now it created anger and disgust which escalated the already pensive mood. She screamed through her emotionally constricted throat, "I will absolutely not work on another project for you! And you need to bring me to Kiop to buy supplies for your training toy." She tightened her grip on his arm and ignoring the rush it created in the pit of her stomach, she decisively added, "Now!"

The contact he had wished to prevent had occurred despite his efforts. As her fiery eyes flashed passionately at him, Vegeta began to forget his previous decision about minimizing his proximity to the beautiful woman. He stepped into her abrasive aura and said, "You will do as I say, If you want your precious planet to stay hidden." Her close body was alluringly dangerous. The Prince felt as if he was ensnared by her forceful glare.

Her intensity doubled, and her eyes narrowed in absolute fury as she replied, "No, I am building the gravity machine in exchange for Gia's safety." Bulma was outraged and thought to herself, _I knew this would happen_. She felt control starting to slip from her grasp as she realized her predicament: she would have to do as he said. She clenched her teeth to prevent the truth from overtaking her ability to fight. Looking defiantly into his dark eyes, she leaned closer to him and said, "You don't own me."

She watched as his barely discernable pupils dilated from pleasure. He smiled maliciously and grabbing her arms, he closed the distance between them. As her skinny but soft body made contact with his, he forgot about everything that brought him to the lab and everything that existed outside the room they shared. It was only the woman; His mind was completely focused on her. His empire faded, his obligations to his father disappeared and his never-ending battle to reach self-satisfaction temporary came to a close. Her smell completely invaded his senses, and he could barely contain his excitement. She had released his arm and pushing against his chest, her back arched alluringly to minimize their contact. He slide one of his arms into the back of her shirt, traced her spine with his calloused hands and stopped his ascension to rest just between her shoulder blades. He watched in amusement as her face transformed from anger to shock. With his hand flat against her back, he pulled her upper body into his and hovering his lips an inch away from her goose-bumped neck, he huskily said, "Are you sure, Woman?" He felt her body shiver in his grasp and chuckled in pleasure at her obvious signs of desire.

Her mind had gone completely blank, and her breathing had turned quick and shallow. His warm hand on her back felt delicious and as his breath tickled her neck, she felt a different type of control slipping from her grasp. With large eyes, she looked up at the domineering man. He was as handsome as he had ever been on Earth, and Bulma felt her body began reacting to his uncontrollably. As she relaxed against him, she moved one of her hands from a defensive position on his chest to rest at the base of his neck. She could feel the familiar bristly hair at the nape of his neck and licked her lips in anticipation.

Bulma felt severe disappoint flood her body as a slight disruptive beep interrupted their activities. In one fluid motion, he snapped his head to behind him and sprang away from her. Vegeta landed near the door just as it swooshed open to reveal Mia carrying a tray of food. He roughly brushed passed the alarmed slave and disappeared from the blue haired woman's view.

Still unable to control her rapid breathing, Bulma shuffled to her chair in a daze. She brought two fingers to her forehead and focused on calming her breathing. Peering through her fingers at the young girl, she waved her into the room and closed her eyes for better concentration. She heard the quiet footsteps of Mia as she walked forward and set down the tray on Bulma's desk.

As Mia turned to leave her new friend alone, Bulma broke the silence by whispering, "Have you ever done something you could never undo?" Bulma raised her eyes apprehensively towards the back of her guest and sighed deeply before continuing, "well, you just saved me from doing just that." Mia faced Bulma and smiled sheepishly. Looking directly into Mia's eyes, Bulma straightened and sincerely said, "Thank you."

The girl bowed in response and said, "Yes, Ms. Bulma." She turned again, walked to the door and exited the laboratory of the mysterious Bulma Briefs.

Bulma was left alone with her thoughts; if only someone had been there to stop her on Earth. After that evening over a year ago, she could never go back to her previously secure life. In the presence of the intoxicating Saiyan, her self-preservation had melted into pure desire.

* * *

~~~ Prior to Earth's Destruction ~~~

Sitting in her mother's oversized greenhouse with her feet resting in the cool, clear water of the larger Koi pond, Bulma thought about her inefficient attempt to escape the presence of the attractive Saiyan. _Bad idea to hid in the Kitchen; it's one of his favorite places. _She smirked at her ridiculous idea and took a long sip of her mom's 'special' lemonade. She turned her head to peer out of the glass wall. The sun had just begun to dip near the horizon, and the daily fantastic color show had just started. She absent mindedly dipped her hand into the water and swirled is methodically. Closing her eyes, she sighed and opened them again to see the man of her thoughts walk onto the lawn outside the building.

He looked calmer than she had seen in the past although his face still retained an intense scowl. Walking to an unremarkable spot, he stopped moving and took a deep breath. Her eyes immediately flickered to his bare chest as it rose slowly. She marveled at his skin tone, _How does he keep a tan in that room all day?_ She drew her legs into her chest and pivoted on the grass to face the man. He stood facing the setting sun, staring as if in a daze. It seemed like he was mulling over something important. She had rarely seen Vegeta in this mood. It was if a new man was blossoming before her. She suddenly felt an uncontrollable craving; she wanted to see him up close. Rising to a standing position, she slowly crept closer to the glass.

Bulma's breath slipped from her lungs and roared in her ears as she stared at the Prince. His profile was outlined by the red-colored sky which made him look both ferocious and strikingly gorgeous. She placed a hand against the curved glass and leaned slightly against the object. She felt as if she was intruding on an intimate moment, and this made her stomach flip excitedly. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and ran over her lips as she traced the outline of his body. _He truly is majestic_, she thought to herself. Bulma thought about the life he would have led if it had not been disrupted so cruelly. Pity began to build within her, and she swallowed a gulp of air in confusion. _He's a murderer and yet_… She looked down in bewilderment. Small specks of glass had planted themselves on her bare feet. She wiggled her toes in the short, stiff grass and tried to pin point her feelings for the man. She could no longer deny the attraction she felt, but was there more?

_He's obviously dangerous_, she thought as she remembered his violent display in the gravity room a week ago. But then he had not hurt her, and he could occasionally show something akin to tenderness. She found herself thinking about what a relationship would be like with the Saiyan. _Is he even capable…_, she wondered to herself. Shaking her head, she lifted her foot from the ground and picked the green specks from her skin. _You're being ridiculous_, she reprimanded herself.

With a short laugh, she raised her head again to gaze at the man of her musings. Her eyes were immediately grappled by his as he appeared a few feet in front of her. She tentatively lifted her hand from the glass and bent her fingers in a small greeting. He met her blue eyes emotionlessly with no attempt to return her gesture. She then ran the same hand through her hair slowly and gave the man a slight smile. She cocked her head to the side and asked out loud, "You Hungry?" She already knew the answer, but stared into his eyes awaiting the minute change that the pleasure of food would bring them. Upon seeing his scowl slightly lighten, her smile grew, and she walked towards the exit.

As she walked along the glass wall, he stood stationary following her movements intensely with his dark eyes. If she had to define his aura, she would say it was apprehensive. _Afraid_ _of little old me_, she thought to herself in dark pleasure. She gave him a sideways look out of her big blue eyes and felt a sharp tingle ascend her body as she thought about her effect on the man. _Is he attracted to me too?_ She could barely contain her smirk, _I bet he's an absolute animal…_ Before she finished the thought, she took a sharp intake of breath. She was supposed to be taking a break from muscular men! But Vegeta was hard to ignore. She looked at the ground before her feet and tried to focus on the deep, green color rather than the man's hard gaze.

Once she exited the greenhouse and began her journey to the kitchen, she had nearly convinced herself to erase the man from her thoughts. But as he fell in behind her on the flagstone path, she found her determination waver. Peeking behind her, she glanced at the emotionless man. His impassive mask was completely in place, and he seemed to be staring at a distant object in front of them. She shrugged her shoulders and shifted her concentration on the meal she would be cooking.

Upon entering the kitchen, Bulma grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with ice, cold water and gulped down the liquid. It felt and tasted delicious in her dry, constricted throat. She held her head slanted backwards at an awkward angle as she emptied the glass. Finishing the drink, she let out a fulfilled sigh and shot a quick glance at her companion. He too had grabbed a large glass of water, but rather than emptying the glass, he held it firmly before him. His hard gaze was focused on her and a flicker of bemusement flashed across his face before melting back into his familiar scowl. She set the glass down on the counter and walked towards the refrigerator. As she opened the large door, she quietly asked, "Excuse me, Vegeta."

He silently stepped closer to the stove top and out of the path of the swinging door to enjoy the view as she bent down to grab two dozen eggs and a large package of bacon. She felt as if his eyes were glued to her frame, and it made her skin tingle and her knees weak. She took a deep breath, balanced the food in her arms and cheerfully said, "I hope you like breakfast food." She forced a relaxed smile and took a few extra steps around the looming man. Dumping the objects on the counter, she grabbed a large bowl and turned her back to the silent figure.

The air in the room was still and silent and as she cracked the white egg against the ceramic bowl, she felt as if a cacophony of noise had erupted before her. Her nerves had entered a state of super activity making each decimated eggshell send a jolt of electricity through her body. She watched as the slimy contents plopped into the gelatinous congregation of yolks and egg-whites. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she turned her head slightly and focusing on a small scratch on the Saiyan's chiseled bicep she asked, "Are the droids to your liking?" She was surprised at the calmness of her voice and congratulated herself on her soundness of mind. She turned back to the food feeling as if she had once again gained control of the situation.

From behind her his gruff voice broke through the air. "They're satisfactory."

She gave a quick laugh and turned around to fully face the man. She cleaned her hands on a dish towel and nonchalantly tossed the item over her shoulder. Arching her eyebrow and tilting her head to the side, she mischievously said, "I would hate to _only_ be satisfactory to a Prince." If she had felt in control before her statement, it dissolved quickly away at his response.

His eyelids lowered in pleasure as she used his formal title, and a smirk began to tug on his lips as they parted slightly to reveal his teeth. He took steps towards her and closed the gap between them to less than a foot. Her body froze around her, and she took a slow, deep breath as his smell invaded her lungs. The masculine, invigorating scent flooded her senses, and she held the air in her lungs in an attempt to calm her nerves. He smirked down at her and huskily said, "I always deliver beyond satisfaction."

Her head shot up dramatically, and she stared at his face trying to grasp the implications behind his words. The stoic mask had already firmly implanted itself across his features which made his reactions practically impossible to gauge. His mouth opened slightly and he released a barely audible, hushed statement, "I doubt your capable?" Interpreting the statement as a direct challenge, Bulma released her breath in exasperation and locked her jaws.

Maintaining eye contact with the overbearing man, she stepped into his personal space. Perilously raising her left hand, she held another small breath and drew her eyes to his pronounced collarbone. She lightly drew a single finger across the right half of his collar bone and allowed it to continue down his compact chest. Releasing a hot breath of air, she pulled her lower lip into her mouth and slowly gazed up at the man she was shyly groping. His eyes were locked on hers with intensity which conveyed a mixture interest and perplexity. She failed to maintain the eye contact as her eyes drifted down his thick neck towards her wayward hand. Thoughts raced through her head incapable of grasping a firm hold on her mind. She continued her exploration as she laid her hand flat against his hot skin just below his nipple. Her fingers softly traced his side lightly tickling his ribs as her thumb meticulously trailed each of his ridged abdomen muscles. She took in a deep breath of air, which racked through her body before it was slowly released.

Her exploration continued further down his body until his muscles conjoined into a v-shape just below his belly button. She could barely see this new development, but traced it with her hand until she reached the beginning of his shorts. Here she slightly tugged her pinky finger into the elastic strap and look up at the imposing man with languidly. A deep, guttural chuckle and his characteristic smirk met her lash filled gaze. Not attempting to analyze his reaction, she stood on the tips of her toes and slowly drew her mouth towards the crook of his neck. She licked her lips slowly and parted them to descend upon the hot, brown skin. She could see his pulse thudding in his thick artery and as she brought her other hand to his chest, she felt his increased heart rate. Between her wet lips she slipped her tongue to lightly caress his skin. Later she would recall that it tasted like the epitome of masculinity but for now, the sensation only further her attraction. She recoiled at the same methodically slow speed and languorously licked her lips with closed eyes. Following a controlled, low moan, she gravely said, "I'm up for any challenge."

His smirk faded from his face as he impassively stared at the woman. He raised his hand to slowly remove her hand from his shorts and took a step back. His eyes flickered to the bowl behind the woman before return to her devilishly blue eyes. With a mask of aloofness he mockingly said, "You're better with the droids, woman." He then turned around roughly, walked to the kitchen table and took a seat. The Saiyan stared expectantly at the woman, analyzing her crushed and provoked expression.

If Bulma's anger had outweighed her mortification, she would have voiced her opinions on the Prince's ability to satisfy. But she merely turned back to the bowl of eggs and let the thoughts mull in her mind as she finished the man's food. _As selfish as he is, he probably wouldn't know how to please a woman!_ She told herself in placation. But then a mischievous thought crossed her mind, _I bet he couldn't resist me for long_. She had seen the small sparks of interest that the man had unwittingly let slip from his ironclad control. As she contemplated the idea of teasing her uptight house guest, a devious tingle starting in her toes ascended her entire body. She smirked in response, and having finished his quick meal, she brought the feast to him. Rather than rounding the table, she leaned over to place the multiple plates. "Your meal," she said softly. Lowering her eyelids so her lashes swooshed dramatically, she gravelly added, "Your majesty." Bulma then sauntered from the room adding a slight sway to her curvy hips.


End file.
